Black & Blue
by Felix McKraken
Summary: After some run of the mill clichedness, Goku attempts to give Vegeta solace, which inadvertantly causes a problem that seems impossible to believe, much less control... WARNING: Yaoi. NOTE: To be redone.
1. Pro: Saying Goodbye

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay...this is(was?) my very first attempt at a DBZ yaoi fic. Expect it to pick up more as it progresses, thank you..  
  
**Prolouge: Saying Goodbye**  
  
The sunset was radiant and spiritually comforting, the golden rays bursting through the feathery clouds that were saturated with pinks and purples. The view was magnificent and soothing to the eye as the sun slowly descended beneath the horizon, sending the world into twilight. A man was sitting on the edge of a cliff, watching nature as it curled up, ready for night. He was laying, stomach down, an almost bored expression on his face. He let his right arm dangle over the edge of the cliff as his left was bent so his chin rested on his hand. His legs were bent, moving back and forth absent-mindedly, like his tail used to. Though his surrounding produced relaxing background noise - the water splashing against the shore only to retreat to sea again, the birds tweeting and chirping love songs back and forth, the crickets occasionally rubbing there wings together to sing - the most noticeable noise to his ears was the sounds he was making himself. His breath was nearly silent, so he felt that more than heard it, but the movement of his legs made his orange gi pants swish quietly, almost unheard to even the trained Saijin ear.  
  
The sun's warmth was nearly gone as the ground let it escape so the coolness of the night could conquer. The light of the sun was only a memory on the sky, making it a lighter blue in the West that eventually blended with the navy of the star-speckled blanket that covered all the other directions. He sighed and let his legs heavily drop, he paused for a moment before rolling over. His right hand found some grass to play with as he stared up into the depths of space. Space...Vegeta-sai...that's where he was from. He released another sigh and closed his eyes. Earth was his home, true, but he couldn't help but wonder about the life he had previously had on the far away planet. He didn't even have a memory of it. The only relation he now had with his heritage was Vegeta. No one else knew how it felt to be a Saijin, not even his own sons. They were half-human after all. And out of everyone who could relate or could understand, it seemed his own wife was the one who didn't understand at all. She had viewed his fighting as a bad influence, no matter how many times he had saved the Earth from destruction. Sure she was grateful, but she still complained about training and how her sons needed to study. She just didn't understand that fighting was something he did because he had to: it was something in his blood.  
  
Chi-chi was a wonderful person, though her exterior personality seemed to cause people to either become annoyed with her, scared of her, or both. She had achieved a great deal in her time, giving birth to two powerful fighters, one of which had the potential to be greater than he. Fighting, in a way, wasn't bad. The martial arts tournament, for example, wasn't a fight to the death but merely a competition that tested the strength and skills of people worldwide. Fighting was bad when people used it to express their feelings or emotions: that's when someone would get hurt. 'It's not the fighting that Chi-chi really hates...it's the consequences and emotions that cause a person to want to fight that she doesn't like,' Goku thought to himself, pretty sure that was the reason for her insistantness against training and fighting. Even still, Goku wouldn't be able to function properly without the excitement that fighting sparked. There was something about the adrenaline rush that gave him a sense of balance, a sense of completeness, as if the fighting made everything else worth while. The sun had finally sunk, it's last silvery rays engulfed in the calm darkness and so he knew it was time to return home. And still he paused for a few more minutes, immersing himself in the tranquility nature was providing him.  
  
Then suddenly he launched himself up off of the ground and into the air, flying toward his house. He walked in quietly, feeling sober; not quite necessarily sad, but certainly there was an air of seriousness about him. Dinner had already been prepared and awaiting him. He took a seat in his normal chair at the table as Chi-chi finished setting down the things needed for the meal. "Oh look who decided to join us," Chi-chi said sarcastically, upset that her husband was late yet again, "It's nice to see that the need for food can bring my darling husband back from his precious training." His teeth clenched and his muscles tensed but he didn't move. Gohan and Goten sat utterly still, both sensing the impending storm. His wife dished out food to everyone simply because it was a routine action, she glanced at the black-haired Saijin, giving him "the look". And the man didn't need to look up to know he was receiving the look from his wife, a low growl emitted from his throat but he quickly silenced it by making it sound like it was a sigh. "Honestly, Goku, I don't understand you at times!" Chi-chi proclaimed, carefully beginning her meal. Goku sat still, his arms rested on the table on either side of his plate, his head was bowed. The anger began to rise inside of him, slowly spreading through his blood stream to infect every inch of his being. "There's no need to go off and train because there's no one to fight, but you still do it anyways! I'll never understand why," his wife continued, taking a drink. Gohan and Goten both felt uneasy, they shared a glance as they ate in silence, both noticing their father's lack in interest of food. That was never a good sign.  
  
"But everyday you run outside to train, it doesn't make sense, goodness," Chi-chi dropped it, at least for the moment to let them eat. Goku stared out into space, his teeth clenching and unclenching, his body not moving other than his teeth and chest, but his breathing was slow and deep and he inhaled and exhaled through his nose. "Goku," the black-haired woman noticed he hadn't touched his food, "Eat your dinner." Goku turned sharply to her and he spoke through clenched teeth, "Don't you tell me what to do!!" Chi-chi stood up and bent over to hover over him intimidatingly, "Goku, I spent a long time preparing this, now you can show your appreciation and eat it!" The Saijin stood up as well, the anger inside of him had reached it's brim, it would take the slightest drop to cause an overflow, "I'm not hungry!!" Chi-chi was torn between anger and sadness, "My husband comes home everyday from training that's utterly pointless, now he won't even please me in the slightest by eating my food!" Goku's mind was reeling with frustration, annoyment, and agitation, "Don't try to put me on a damned guilt trip! You don't understand in the slightest how I feel!" The mother began to cry now, the tears ran down her face with no stop in sight, "You're right, I don't! I never had!" Goku's fists had seemed to have clenched between the time he had gotten up and the last sentence Chi-chi had spoken. He replied without thought, "I can tell!" Gohan whispered to Goten and they somehow managed to escape the room without either of their parents noticing.  
  
They stood, almost afraid, by the hallway out of sight. Gohan hugged his younger sibling who was trembling with uncertainty, never having witnessed his parents fighting like this before. "What am I supposed to do with you!?" Chi-chi yelled back, her fists clenched now as well. Goku let out a frustrated cry, "For starters you can stop trying to run MY life!! I'm so sick of it! You've always done it! If I want to do something then I'm not going to let you stop me anymore! It's my life and I'll do what I want!" His wife seemed surprised, almost terrified, her voice was full of exasperation, "Think about your children Goku! What kind of example are you setting for them!?" The Saijin growled again and he spoke lowly, "I don't care. They're almost grown up now, they can take care of themselves." Chi-chi was flabbergasted, "Goku, what are you saying!" The black-haired man sneered, "That I can't live like this anymore, Chi-chi. You're a wonderful person but I just CAN'T TAKE IT. I can't even be myself around anyone. I need to be ALONE Chi-chi." She looked up at him, a confused and sad expression on her face. The low hum of the ceiling fan was all that was heard for a few minutes. The boys in the hallway looked at each other worriedly. Then they heard a chair being pulled out and someone sitting down. Chi-chi leaned across the table, sobbing into her hands. "Chi-chi..Don't do this. You know it hasn't been working out. Both of us know that," Goku said calmly, rubbing her back gently to try to make her stop her crying. "And the truth is," Goku prepared to be honest with himself more so than to his wife, "I don't feel that I love you anymore." She broke down into a sobbing fit and Goku pulled her against him, holding her lightly. Of course she had been Hell on Earth for a long time, but she had been his Heaven a lot of the time too. He didn't love her as a married couple anymore, but more like a very close friend.  
  
"Chi-chi," Goku spoke softly, for he felt pain through her pain, that was the gift being on Earth gave him, "You're still a very important person to me. I still care a great deal for you, I want you to know that. I don't love Gohan or Goten any less than I did before. I want you to know that too. I just need you know how I feel and to understand why I feel this way." She sniffled and wiped some tears away, not daring to look at him, "Go on..." Goku rubbed her arms to soothe her, "I feel that I should be on my own from now on. I need to be alone. I don't know exactly why but that is what my instincts are telling me, and I've learned that if I don't follow my instincts something bad will happen. Things won't work out. Something inside of me is telling me that I should do this. That I need to move out. I'll come and visit you all, of course, I still care about you all deeply. This is just something...I must do." Chi-chi looked up at Goku who had a warm smile on his face. He stopped his motions and stood up to his full height for a moment before turning and heading for the door, "Tell Gohan and Goten I love them very much." She got up, knocking over the wooden chair that banged against the ground, she reached for him but he flew off before she could get close enough. She stared out the door and into the night, still reaching for her husband that got away. Chi-chi whispered quietly into the still air, "Goku..." 


	2. 1: Nevermore

**Chapter 1: Nevermore**  
  
The woods were dark and still except for the occasional breeze of wind that tosseled his hair. He sat beneath a large tree, uncertain to tell it's type in the dark. The branches and leaves mostly blocked the moonlight from shining into the forest, but there were splotches of the dull bluish-silver luminance that happened to squeeze through. The night was cool but not uncomfortable, and with this experience mixed with the other factors around him it made him feel completely relaxed. He sighed deeply, letting his anxieties escape him as he leaned against the trunk of the tree, sliding down just a bit. He had all the time in the world to train now. The mere thought made him feel serene. He smiled before letting his mind and body fall into a comfortable slumber.  
  
***  
  
The Prince of Saijins awoke on the floor of his capsule that Bulma's father had made him. He stretched and sat up slowly, his muscles aching and stinging him as he moved, 'I passed out again...damnit!' He sighed, shaking his head as he stood, he couldn't stop just because his body was tired. Vegeta inhaled deeply before he started fighting an imaginary enemy once again, not breaking a sweat at first, but as his body demanded rest more and more he began to perspire more and more. Suddenly, the door opened to the capsule surprising the brunette, but upsetting him as well. Trunks stepped forward, standing the intense gravity as if it were normal. "What is it, boy?" Vegeta asked sharply, he hated to be interrupted. His son lifted his head, tears running down his face causing Vegeta to raise an eyebrow. Trunks choked on his words for a moment but he attempted to wipe away his tears, "I-it's...mom. S-she got in an a...accident." Vegeta felt his blood run cold as his muscles began to go limp, "W-what?" Trunks tried his best to refrain from sobbing, "S-she's at the hospital now, b-but-" Trunks wasn't allowed to finish, Vegeta flew by him at top speed. The initial shock hadn't worn off quite yet so whenever Vegeta attempted to think he only came up blank, the feeling that he should be with Bulma overriding all his other emotions. He found the hospital and demanded to be taken to see his wife. The doctors were hesitant but allowed him to stand by and watch.  
  
His wife lay prone on a hospital bed, I.V.s inserted into her arms, a respirator was helping her breathe. There was a bandage around her head and blood had soaked through part of it in a spot. Her skin was pale which was unlike her, and her expression was rather blank, even with her eyes closed. Vegeta stood leaning against the wall, looking down at her with a worried expression. The beep of the heart monitor was reassuring in a way, but he rather hated hospitals. 'Damnit...if only we could have a senzu bean!' Vegeta hissed out loud, grinding his teeth together. This wasn't fair. Why did Bulma have to die? She was the only one who understood him and loved him. He loved her too, in a way, she was more than a friend, that much was true, but he felt like he never fully bonded with her. Even still, the pain from loosing her would be unbearable. But he could sense her slowly fading away. He wished he could do something. At some point or another Trunks joined him by his side. But he didn't find much comfort in the boy. No one could help him through this. No one. Bulma was the one he ran to if a situation went bad. Of course he'd deny it if ever questioned, but she was his solace. She was able to tame him, you could say. She was a lovely person no matter how often she annoyed him, and that much was evident because he stayed with her.  
  
Vegeta swallowed hard and was immersed in a feeling of loneliness. He didn't want to be by himself when this happened. He needed someone. The Saijin turned to his son, pulling him into a hug that comforted them both. Then he was overwhelmed with another emotion, and he suddenly didn't want to be there any longer. Something bad was going to happen and he wanted to flee. And then Bulma's heart monitor informed of her drastically depleting life force. Trunks shouted something but Vegeta was stunned, so shocked the whole world seemed to be moving in slow-motion. He felt dizzy and nearly lost consciousness but he was able to stand until the doctor informed them that Bulma had passed away, making it impossible to tell how long he'd been there. Vegeta clenched his fists and teeth, he bowed his head in rising anguish and he opened the window and escaped before Trunks could stop him. He disappeared for only a few hours, Trunks finding him at Capsule Corporation in the room Bulma and him had shared. He was hugging the pillow that Bulma had slept on. He knocked on the door, snapping Vegeta out of the trance he was in and he quietly said, "Dad..." It could have been a question or a statement, Vegeta wasn't sure, but he didn't care either. He buried his face in the pillow, hiding his eyes which were red from strain, tears constantly threatening to escape, "I need to be alone right now, son." Trunks began to reach for him and he hesitated, but he nodded slowly in understanding, leaving the room and quietly shutting the door.  
  
Vegeta sprawled across the bed, inhaling the scent of his wife. It was still hard to believe he was a Widower now. The white sheets were smooth and fresh and he ran his hand over Bulma's side of the bed. He missed her so much...her teasing, her compliments, her words of encouragement, her occasional selfish attitude, her ability to make him smile. If he would have called anyone his best friend, it would have been her. Filled with grief he didn't even consider his second option on that matter, all that invaded him was the fact that Bulma was gone...truly gone. He was barely able to bite back the tears that stung his eyes. He had given himself to Bulma and now there was no one to talk to, or turn to, or to be with. He was all alone. Again. "It's not fair," he said, his voice a mere whisper that cracked with pain. He wrapped the coverings that he and his wife had shared around him tightly, and eventually he fell asleep.  
  
The next morning Trunks awoke him with a gentle nudge, "Father, breakfast is ready." Vegeta turned his face away from his son, "...I'm not hungry." The purple-haired boy gave a nod, deciding not to argue with him, "Okay. There's food there if you'd like it." The boy quietly slipped out of the room to leave him alone again. Vegeta sat in the same position for hours, merely blinking, thinking, and breathing. The saw the sun's rays travel across the room. The light faded dimmer as clouds would obstruct the path of the rays, but once the cloud was clear, the bright cheerful light would return. One phrase kept running through his mind like a record that skipped on an old phonograph, 'It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair...' Trunks visited again for two reasons, to inform him dinner was ready and that the arrangements for Bulma's funeral had been made. He talked for a few minutes, going into detail and wishing he could get his father to respond. But he didn't even look at him, he barely acknowledged his existence. Trunks reminded him once more that food was ready and Vegeta merely nodded in response. When sunset was closing in he sat up, a blank expression on his face. He stared at the window for a moment before opening it silently, effortlessly fleeing the place that had so many fond memories. He didn't care where he was going or when he'd be back, he just knew he couldn't be there anymore.  
  
The next day was uncomfortable for Trunks. He had to attend Bulma's funeral without his father. It made him uneasy that his mother's love wouldn't even come to say goodbye. He knew that Vegeta needed his space and he needed time like himself, but this...this made him nervous. The procession ended and people said their goodbyes, solemnly walking away from Bulma Briefs' grave. Trunks was the last to leave, hoping that perhaps Vegeta would show up once the crowd was gone. But no such luck was given. He sighed and knelt down, speaking lowly, "Mom...I'm sure going to miss you." He paused to think over his next words, "Dad will to. I'm sorry he wasn't here. I think he's really taking this harsh. I'm worried about him." Another pause. Trunks licked his dry lips, "God, mom...why did you have to leave? We love you so much...please..never forget us." Tears escaped his eyes and trickled down his face as he kissed two of his fingers - his middle and index - and then placed them upon her gravestone. "Bye mom, I love you," Trunks said before forcing himself to turn and walk away. He began to cry, his bangs in his face.  
  
Storm clouds began to gather and Trunks dully noted that it was going to rain; he returned home to find that his father had still not come back. He wondered how he was doing and hoped he was alright. But he wasn't alright. He was outside when it began to pour, the raindrops matting his brown spiky hair. He had made progress over the past twenty-four hours by coming down from the shock and then coming to terms with the fact that Bulma was dead. After that though, he had fallen into a downward spiral, going deeper and deeper into a depression. Depression, although, was not the only emotion that was dominating him at the moment. He felt anger as well. Anger that he couldn't - hadn't - protected Bulma. Anger that he was stupid enough to get involved in the first place. Anger that he'd never be that close to anyone like that ever again. Most of his emotions coincided with the other. He was confused and stuck in ambivalence. It wasn't fair. He screamed out, letting himself turn Super Saijin level two. He threw out random attacks, trying to destroy the scenery around him in an attempt to make himself feel better. He felt the intense desire to either receive or deliver pain, but it only upset him worse that he could not fulfill any of his wishes. He punched ferociously, breaking a tree in two; it toppled and fell in his direction and he broke it into smaller pieces with his knee, shredding the cloth that protected his skin. A bit of blood began to escape the scratches on his knee and he stopped attacking the area around him for a moment so he could think. With another cry he flew off to the area Trunks had told him about the previous afternoon. He passed the entrance which was a large iron gate.  
  
The flashes of lightning helped illuminate the area and he cursed the weather because it made his mission all the more difficult. He was soaked to the bone, his hair slick and back falling to about the middle of his back and clinging to any skin in it's path. Vegeta searched the area slowly, silently floating by and over the many people at rest. There was so many names and so many dates. Young people, old people, children, those who had died within the year that they were born. Some graves were lonely, stark and desolate of any trace that people still remembered them. Though other graves were decorated with different objects of affection: some held flowers, wreaths, others had pictures, notes or letters, he couldn't tell which, and some even had small stuffed animals. There was something about this sight, something that he was absorbing slowly, but he couldn't tell what it was. In a way he was intrigued, interested, but in another he was cold, uncaring, and yet, in another he was afraid, almost skeptical. He pushed his feelings aside the moment his eye caught the fresh grave. His body froze in mid-air and his breath caught itself in his throat. He stared, swallowing slowly in an attempt to relieve his tight, scratchy throat. The involuntary need for air caused him to inhale and exhale even though his breaths were shallow. His form landed on the cold wet grass, his knees leaning into the mud. At first all he could do was stare. But then he fell forward, his gloved fingers digging into the soil, his dark hair falling to block his face. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath as he leaned into the ground his muscles tight and flaring, aching as he tensed them more and more. And then he threw back his head, gazing up at the clouded skies as he released a painful howl into the night. Lightning crackled across the sky, spreading outward to resemble a spider's web. Thunder boomed harshly, rivaling the Saijin's terrible cry. And eventually his lungs had no more air to release and so no more sound was produced.  
  
Vegeta fell face first against the ground, letting the tears that he had so desperately tried to resist flow freely. Vegeta didn't notice the intense storm, he was too far into what he would call, venting. The tears flowed steadily for the loss of his friend. The only person who had understood him. The only person who knew why he did what he did. Not even his son knew, but at least he tried. No one else seemed to care. But Bulma had...even if she disagreed, at least she supported him. She was his...escape. He wouldn't want to admit it, but she had been his outlet for the emotions that he had been taught were either a sign of weakness or just plain wrong. Even when he tried to express them though, he held back. His sub-conscious mind kept him from changing on the outside as well as on the in. He let out raspy cries, slowly crawling across the grass, pushing forward half-heartedly with his knees. He finally reached his destination, letting his head rest on his the dark grey gravestone. His cheek pressed against the cold stone and his left hand reached up, lightly tracing the name of his deceased wife. His tears fell, trailing down the indentations as if following the lead of the rain drops. He curled up, partially because of the way he felt inside, and partially because he was beginning to get cold. His chest heaved as his sobs began to die down, but as he thought of the blue-haired woman's face again the sniffles and coughs returned again, just as hard as before. God, it just wasn't fair! It wasn't fair!! He screamed again, letting his body be surrounded by a golden aura, his hair glittering a rich blond. His fists clenched, his knuckles turned white, his fingernails dug into the palm of his hand. This hair spiked but because of it's dampness, it didn't return to it's normal vertical stance. He collapsed, still crying, sitting on hands and knees next to Bulma's resting place. It wasn't fair... 


	3. 2: Misunderstanding

**Chapter 2: Misunderstanding**  
  
The rain poured moderately down upon him and the forest he was in. Even with the change in weather he didn't let it interfere with his training. Actually, he invited the change from his normal routine. His clothing was completely soaked and his hair dripped and sagged though it didn't completely fall back. His mind drifted from thought to thought, and he barely tried to punch and kick his imaginary foe. After all, imaginary enemies couldn't hit back, you could only pretend. 'It's just not the same without another person,' Goku solemnly thought, doing a few back flips, 'I wonder what Vegeta's up to. Maybe we could spar so I won't get out of shape. He likes the challenge anyway.' His fists punched at the air though his body stayed almost completely still. He succeeded in dealing a series of high kicks. The rain began to let up slightly, the darkness lifting a bit but not enough to see properly without lightning. 'C'mon Goku, just focus,' the Saijin told himself, gathering his breath and leaping into the air. He spun around quickly, jutting his leg out in a kicking motion. But the ground was his only rival and he slid several feet before he stopped. The only achievement was that mud was smeared across his orange pants. 'It's hopeless,' he sighed to himself, bowing his head and frowning, 'I need the challenge. I need Vegeta.' Goku sat down on the nearest patch of grass, one leg bent while the other was lazily stretched out. He held his arms around the bent knee, leaning backwards slightly and thinking. 'Vegeta...wow. It's funny to see how far we've come along,' he thought, looking up at the clouds in the sky, watching the lightning flash and travel every once in awhile, 'He used to want to kill me. Now he doesn't seem to care. Man...I can remember the day he died.' The Saijins features softened, and a curt frown appeared on his face.  
  
'I've never seen him like that again..the way he looked after Freiza had shot him, the beam going straight through his chest..it probably hit his heart, or some part of it. He cried that day..' Goku remembered the scene clearly in his mind. Vegeta had been so broken and beaten. Blood was splattered and splotched across his face, even a a trail of the crimson liquid had been escaping out of the corner of his mouth, oozing down the side of his face and over his ear. Vegeta had reached out to him, tears flowing and following the stream of blood, as he told him his dying wish that he would never actually fulfill. The realization hit him. Hard. 'I...never killed Frieza,' Goku sat, eyes wide, his head cocked to the side. True, he had nearly beat him to death, but his remains were recovered and the alien had been reconstructed. Trunks was the one who had finally killed him. He would of gladly done it, if he had been able to make it to Earth on time. 'I..failed Vegeta,' the black-haired man felt anger boil inside of him. Anger than he couldn't even grant Vegeta's dying wish. Even though it was long ago. It probably didn't matter to Vegeta anymore. His mind continued to recall how he had to dig a hole on Namek and place Vegeta into his grave. It shouldn't have been that way. He shouldn't have been on Namek. He should of been buried where he was born, but that unfortunately, was impossible. Vegeta had been a bad person in life, but did he deserve to die? Goku had always believed in a second chance, and the prince was luckily given one, and with it he had shown that there was hope for him still. Gods, the look on Vegeta's face the moment he died...his hand falling to the ground with a light thud, his expression relaxing yet still marked with the scowl he wore. Vegeta...  
  
Goku's head snapped up and his eyes widened just a bit as he sensed a familiar ki. The outburst had come from...the man he'd just been thinking about. 'What the...?' Goku thought, his eyebrows knit in confusion and wonder. He stood but stayed in the same spot for a moment, getting a feel for where Vegeta was located before flying off to investigate. He stayed relatively low to the ground and followed the dying traces of Vegeta's ki. It wasn't fading completely, but just down to normal level. At least that much was a relief. The rain and the wind didn't help Goku any, instead he started to get a chill. But he clenched his teeth and continued with his flight, trying to ignore the sensations that crawled over his skin, 'I can't stop. I've got to make sure Vegeta's okay.' It almost seemed like he was flying deeper into the storm. He probably was, but he didn't care. Within a few minutes he finally located the prince. At first he wasn't sure what to do, seeing Vegeta in his current condition. He didn't want to interrupt but he didn't want to leave Vegeta by himself either. He landed behind him silently, trying not to disturb the man, watching his backside heave as he lied beside the grave. The brunette's hair was down which was an unusual sight to see, and his clothes were torn a bit as well. What exactly was going on? If Vegeta was crying and he was at a grave...  
  
Goku felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as a shiver ran up his spine. 'Oh no..please no,' the black-haired man pleaded, taking a step forward without really thinking. The noise of his boots softly padding the grass caught Vegeta's ears and he looked at his intruder, 'Oh shit...not Kakkarot. Anyone but him...' He wiped his tears away with his sleeve and leapt to his feet, still sniffling a bit, "What do you want?" His voice was in his normal demanding tone but there was a trace of strain in it. "I, uh..." Goku frantically tried to come up with his answer, "I felt your ki and...well...what exactly...happened?" Vegeta resisted his first impulse to push him away, but he realized that this was part of his business. He almost hated the thought. Almost. They stood silent for a few minutes. The brunette continued his relentless stare, his eyes red and his frown rough; he folded his arms still sorting through his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak but it took several moments to actually produce words, and his voice unintentionally cracked while he informed Goku of the situation, "...Bulma died." At first all Goku could do was blink, then his face fell as shock began to set in, and then he wished to know more, "What?? When?? Why??" Vegeta turned, not wishing to face the taller man anymore, "Two days ago. She was in an accident." Goku bowed his head, his stomach twisting into knots over the loss of his long time friend, "Oh my god...I'm so sorry Vegeta." The Prince of Saijins gave a gruff snort, turning completely away from him, "Spare me your sympathy and pity, Kakkarot." The other warrior's eyebrows raised into a worried expression. He didn't want to leave Vegeta in a state like this. Maybe if he didn't know it was this bad, but...  
  
"Just...go," the brunette said, pushing some of his hair away from his face. But Goku didn't leave. Instead he stood utterly still, trying to sort through all that was going on inside of his head. At first he thought of actually leaving, but his intuition told him not to. And so he stayed. Vegeta grit his teeth in frustration, 'Why is he staying!? I can't stand to have him see me like this! He wasn't meant to! Damn him!' The black-haired warrior ran his hand over the top of his head, forcing some of the rain out of it, allowing his hair to spike a bit more than it had in it's previous state. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? This was Vegeta after all..it wasn't like Yamcha, or Krillin, or even Trunks...this was Vegeta. He acted like he didn't even need comfort. He would have believed it..maybe...if it wasn't for the fact that he had seen Vegeta's tears with his very own eyes. He knew Vegeta was fighting inner demons, and he knew that he shouldn't be alone at a time like this. So he decided to take things slowly, one step at a time, but still treat him like he was one of his other friends. Of course he would do some modifying here and there, but even though, he needed a base, a starting point. "It's...okay, Vegeta," Goku slowly started, his tone indicating that he wasn't referring exactly to Bulma's death. Vegeta looked over his shoulder, his expression blank, almost as if he was confused. He took a moment to assess and reply, "Why are you still here?" Goku breathed for a moment, rubbing his face with his hand to ease his stress. He looked up and into Vegeta's eyes as he repeated, "..It's okay." The shorter Saijin narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows scrunching together; he nearly stuttered a response, "W-hatever, Kakkarot."  
  
"No, it's true," the black-haired man continued before reminding himself to slow down. He took a breath and a step toward Vegeta, "If you want to cry...cry." Vegeta growled lowly, emitting the sound from his throat, he grinded his heel into the ground as he turned towards his long time rival, "Saijins don't cry." The statement was made as if to try to convince Goku that he hadn't done the act in the first place. Goku shook his head slightly, noticing that the storm was starting to pass. "Look, if you don't want to that's fine too," Goku replied hesitantly and carefully, shrugging slightly to show that he didn't mind. Vegeta turned his gaze away, tilting his head, "What is the point you are trying to make? Hurry it up and spit it out, Kakkarot, I don't like playing games." The taller man winced but it wasn't visible to the other fighter, "I guess I just want you to be yourself." Vegeta rolled his eyes and glanced back at Goku, "Who are you to decide when I'm being myself?" Goku held up his hands in a gesture that meant he was backing off, "I didn't mean anything by it. I was just saying-" Vegeta interrupted him and spoke harshly, "You were just saying that I should be myself. How are you to know when I'm being myself, Kakkarot?" The black-haired Saijin gave a sigh, wanting to give up as it seemed his attempts to help Vegeta were futile ones. Finally he conjured a response though, as Vegeta turned to leave, "I don't know. I assume. But still, I didn't say that you weren't being yourself. I may have eluded to it but I DID NOT say it." Their talk seemed to be slowly turning into a verbal argument...  
  
'I have to stop this before it gets worse,' Goku told himself as he prepared for Vegeta's reply. "Fine," was all that was surprisingly spoken, Vegeta powered up slightly, a white aura glowing around him as he prepared to fly off. "Wait," Goku suddenly said, causing Vegeta to look back at him. He quirked an eyebrow and awaited an explanation, "What is it, Kakkarot?" Goku stepped closer to him, moving slowly in a way that looked as though he was purposely trying not to look intimidating, "Can't we talk?" Vegeta exhaled noisily, to emphasize his annoyment, "What is there to talk about?" Goku paused for a moment, letting his posture slouch as he thought about it. He looked back up at the prince and quietly offered, "I thought we could talk about..Bulma." Vegeta's face scrunched up and his fists clenched, but after a tense moment, he relaxed and sat down next to his wife's grave stone, his aura fading, "Fine, Kakkarot." Goku closed his eyes briefly, thanking the gods that he got through to him. "Tell me what she was like," the black-haired Saijin requested, sitting down on the opposite side of the tombstone. "You talk like you never knew her," Vegeta roughly answered, looking down at the ground as the now drizzling ran rippled the puddles nearby. "Well..." Goku began to explain himself, leaning back onto his elbows, "I don't know how she was like..with you, I mean." Vegeta froze then slowly turned and looked at the larger man, "She was..." The different memories he had of his wife began to flash through his mind. Her smile, her laughter, her anger, her scolding, her frown, her attempts to make him smile, her blush, her kiss..Bulma...  
  
"She was strange, but nice," Vegeta summed things up but not exactly the way he wanted to. "Yeah.." Goku agreed quietly, looking down at the ground as well, wishing he had something to keep him occupied. Vegeta realized that he hadn't explained Bulma to Goku that well, but he cared more to say it out loud to himself than to his rival, "She was..understanding, though stubborn. She was.." He sighed, trailing off, unable to produce words for how he thought about her. "She was demanding, that's for sure," Goku added bravely, he looked at Vegeta for an annoyed expression but the Saijin wasn't even looking at him, "but she tried her best and was kind to everyone." Vegeta nodded, drawing his knees up to his chest; he looked at the half-dry mud that covered his scrapes and he began to brush it off. The prince's next words were almost silent, "She was the only one who..cared." Somehow Goku's ears caught what he had said and so he instantly insisted, "That's not true!" Vegeta looked up at him, eyes wide, an expression of vulnerability on his face. The look quickly passed and he merely said, "Oh...?" He sighed and let his chin rest between his two knees, 'I wish Kakkarot would leave me alone.' But some place deep inside of him knew that if Goku would leave him now...he would miss his company. "Yeah," Goku began to compose himself again, his tone becoming quieter. He waited a few minutes to reply, and he watched the clouds pass in the meantime. Thunder was barely heard in the distance as the storm traveled away from their current location. The clouds retreated, exposing the star-speckled sky that had been hidden above. A cool, still air overcame the night and the moon cast it's soft beams down upon the two Saijins. "I care," he told Vegeta honestly, turning to look at him, offering a hint of a smile. Vegeta merely glanced at him, 'I wish you wouldn't.'  
  
Goku felt a bit uncomfortable that Vegeta hadn't even negatively replied to what he said. He just...sat there, looking dead ahead. He blinked a few times, looking over the prince, and he scratched the back of his head realizing that it was still wet. "You know..if you ever need to talk, I'm here," Goku said this line quickly simply because he knew Vegeta wouldn't really like to hear it. The brunette clenched his teeth, inhaling to reply, but after a moment's time he just dismissed it, letting out the air he had been holding captive. The black-haired man let his lips turn into a smile, but it wasn't a normal smile, it was a forced smile, like he was trying to reassure himself. He turned away for a moment to let Vegeta think on his own as he wrung out his hair in hopes that it would return back to it's normal state. He looked over at Vegeta whose hair was still fairly damp and down. But now that there wasn't rain to keep matting it down the brown strands had begun to dry and rise back into their normal position. "Why would I talk to you?" Vegeta finally said, his voice raspy as if he hadn't had enough air to ask his question. Goku lied back slowly, bringing his hands behind his head and interlacing his fingers, "Maybe I could understand something other people wouldn't." Vegeta almost laughed but he lied back as well, staring up at the night sky, "I doubt that. You still have your wife." Goku replied without thought, "Not exactly." There was silence and Vegeta looked over at him with a hint of confusion on his face as he sat up, "What's that supposed to mean?" The taller Saijin suddenly realized that no one besides the immediate family knew that Goku and Chi-chi were separated. It made him nervous for some reason and he closed his eyes, "Well..Chi-chi and I...are sorta not together anymore." Vegeta sat unmoving, waiting for more of an explanation. Goku sensed this and hesitantly continued, "We had a fight..sorta..and well, things haven't been working..." He sighed deeply trying to put his thoughts into words, "We're just better this way." Vegeta turned away, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Goku took this time to breathe. Why was it so hard to tell Vegeta this? It wasn't likely that the royal Saijin even cared.  
  
"You left your mate after all these years?" Vegeta questioned cautiously but menacing undertones lurked in his voice. Goku sensed something as the prince asked him this and he was careful on wording his response. "We were close, very close, that much is true. But have I ever been completely happy with her? Or completely in love? No...I've always felt something missing from our relationship...We both couldn't take it anymore so we thought it best to separate," the black-haired man said quietly, his legs switched positions uncomfortably. The swish of his pants threatened to drown out his voice, but Vegeta still heard him perfectly clear and the shorter warrior drew his knees back up to his chest again. 'I've felt a gap with Bulma too...' he silently concurred to Goku's story, applying it to his own life. He shook his head, gently pressing his eyes against the edge of his knees as if he was trying to hide, as if he was ashamed for it to be true. The brunette inhaled deeply, letting his legs fall into an indian style position; he paused before speaking, "Well, it's surprising I must admit." Goku gave an insincere smile, his hands starting to play with the grass beneath his body. The damp ground had let it's moisture be absorbed into both of the Saijins' clothes but neither seemed to mind or even notice. It was quiet again and Goku quickly scrambled to keep the conversation going and so he quickly spat out, "It's different to be on my own. I..feel different..." Vegeta looked at him from the corner of his eye, his eyebrows furrowing as he examined the larger man, 'He does seem different.' Goku, not hearing a response, lingered on about himself, "I don't have to worry much about anything at all, I get to relax, I get to train..." He stopped once he realized he shouldn't be talking about himself, that wasn't what he was there for. He was there to help Vegeta, not tell him about his day.  
  
So he switched the subject back to the prince, "So...I haven't really seen you in awhile." He paused, knowing his next question was and was not obvious in a way, "How've you been doing?" Vegeta gave him a look that read 'You're either an idiot or just plain annoying - I haven't figured it out just yet.' and he folded his arms. "I suppose you are referring to how I was before this happened?" Vegeta questioned, closing his right eye which wasn't necessary for him to see his company with. Silently he rephrased what he had just said, 'I hope you are referring to how I was before Bulma died...I sincerely hope you're not that stupid, Kakkarot.' Goku gave a brief, small nod, turning in such a way that it looked as though he was shying away from the brown-haired man. Vegeta turned his attention away from Goku, looking out into space, "I had been training." The answer was brief. Extremely brief. It made Goku uncomfortable but he also noted that Vegeta was most likely pining at the moment and he didn't need to push him further. 'Why is he playing twenty questions?' Vegeta asked himself, tilting his head to the side, 'What is he aiming for?' Goku let Vegeta alone for a few minutes, just lying back and observing the night sky. He looked across the black and blue blanket at the glowing stars. He began to recall constellations, mentally collecting the dots to create shapes. The Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, Orion's Belt, Aquarius, Cancer, Draco, Virgo...  
  
"What?" Vegeta asked, everything about the question seemed odd, but Goku took the easiest way out and the one he understood the most. "I'm looking at the constellations," he informed the Prince of Saijins, slightly nodding. "What the hell for?" the question itself was hostile, but Vegeta's tone was not. "Because...I think they're.." he searched for a word other than 'pretty' knowing from the depths of himself that he shouldn't sound juvenile, especially not now in front of Vegeta. He firmly ended his sentence, "..interesting." Vegeta looked up for a moment then he looked away again, "Hmph. Just a bunch of stars and shitty planets. Nothing much to look at." Goku brushed him off, not truly ignoring him, "...You wouldn't be able to see Vegeta-sai now...but maybe when I was a kid.." Vegeta closed his eyes, indulging in his thoughts, 'Damn him. He disowned the place from where he was birthed and yet he tries to speak of it as if he's a part of it. Damn the fool. He wouldn't know a thing about Vegeta-sai or..or me. My planet's called Vegeta-sai..and my name is Vegeta...I'm the Prince of Saijins and he's a third class soldier. How the hell has he become stronger than me? How the hell can he be stronger than me!? He was extendable and I, a prince! It doesn't make sense, damnit! Look what he's done to me! After all these fucking years of being second best he still lets me live out this pathetic existance! God, I hate you Kakkarot!!' A crackle of energy passed over Vegeta and Goku immediately turned to the brief flash, "Something the matter, Vegeta?" Vegeta clenched his fists, not uttering a word. Goku took a deep breath, inhaling slowly, looking over the man in front of him with confusion, 'He can be so stubborn at times, God! I wish I knew what he was thinking...I could read his thoughts but...it wouldn't feel right.' The larger warrior decided to let his gaze return to the skies and he relaxed slightly, still worried about Vegeta.  
  
Vegeta-sai...what was it like? He couldn't even remember it. Sometimes he wished he could, he wished he could relate to Vegeta a bit more. 'He lost his whole planet to Freiza. He lost everyone he cared about..everyone last one. He was forced to start anew. He was trained since youth to be a killer. He had no choice..!' Goku felt his heart quicken at the sudden onslaught of thoughts and emotions, 'If I had lost everything. If I had lost Earth. If I had been kidnapped and taken away from everyone I had known and cared about when I was little....I'd be just like him too!' Goku looked down quickly, his face tensed in uncertainty, 'But I don't understand it...when he gets something he needs, he doesn't change or he changes very little! Why can't he change? Do I just not understand him enough? God, Vegeta, help me help you!' He suddenly wished he had something to keep his hands distracted with so he tore off a blade of grass and began to play with it. Subconsciously he noted the color and texture as he felt across the smooth piece of vegetation. 'He's so complex on the inside! But I guess no one bothers to look that deep,' the black-haired man continued to ponder, 'But they should because that's where he is, that's who he really is. He's actually a good person.' He stared intently at the strip of grass he held in his hands, slowly pulling it apart into two equal halves, 'I wonder if he'd kill me if he had the chance.'  
  
'I'd kill that asshole if I had the chance!' Vegeta silently fumed, recalling all the times the larger Saijin had beaten him. On Earth with Nappa, on Namek against Frieza, and then he became a Super Saijin before him, his own son defeated Cell, he became Super Saijin level three....FUCKING ASSHOLE!! He was the prince, not Kakkarot! Kakkarot didn't deserve the power! 'He probably would,' Goku thought, dropping the tiny pieces of torn up green, 'He always let's power go to his head. I guess that's why he's calmer than he used to be. Because I'm here to restrain him if he tries to get too far. I wonder if he's crazy when he gets power or if he's crazy all the time.' Goku released a deep sigh, 'The world may never know...' By now the brunette's muscles were tense once again, 'It's not fair! I lose Bulma and he comes to talk with me!? What the fuck! Who does he think he is!?' Another crackle of energy flickered in the dark night as Vegeta sat, letting his emotions rise until they'd gush out. Goku's worry deepened as he looked at the older man, 'I wish he'd tell me what he's thinking about!' But still there was nothing spoken, only the occasional crackle that danced beside Vegeta. The black-haired Saijin sat up, turning towards the smaller man, debating whether or not he should attempt conversation. Vegeta's eyes were wielded shut, 'He's always got to be one step ahead! He's always got to have everything! He always has to be better! WHY, DAMNIT, WHY!? THE FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!'  
  
Vegeta suddenly shot up, looking down at Goku with a glare on his face. His deep ebony irises exposed his burning anger as he stood still in silent rage, the adrenaline pumping it's way through his veins causing his flesh to tingle. His tone was thick and menacing when he spoke, as if his voice was spilling over his lips with the source being his very own emotions, "Kakkarot...Fight me." 


	4. 3: Misery Loves Company

**Chapter 3: Misery Loves Company**  
  
Goku stared at him blankly for a moment, not registering what Vegeta had said. The prince's anger rose even higher when the other Saijin would not reply; his fists clenched tightly as he began to power up. "Fight me you bastard!" he screamed, letting himself turn Super Saijin level two in a fury of emotion. Goku stood up, leaping into the air in confusion, "What!? Vegeta...why!?" The brunette growled loudly, baring his clenched teeth as he was able to whisper, "Fucking asshole..." He let out a howl, launching into the air towards Goku, wishing only to inflict pain. Goku let himself transform as well, yet he surpassed Vegeta's level as he dodged the shorter man's punch. "Vegeta, what's wrong!?" the question told by itself was insane. At that moment it was apparent what was wrong: Vegeta's entire life had been turned upside down. After all that time of having a semi-steady life, and a taste of love, he had lost it all. And he lost it without the opportunity to say goodbye. Even still, fighting was ludicrous at this point. There was no need for it. "Go to hell!" the other man replied, turning and launching a series of blasts aimed at Goku's torso. "Stop it!" the larger Saijin requested in a demanding tone, tossing the blasts aside with a little less than ease, "I don't want to fight you!"  
  
'Of course you don't, Kakkarot! You're too high and mighty to deal with shit like me!'  
  
"Fuck you!" Vegeta screamed, successfully slamming his hand into Goku's stomach, surprising him. Goku needed a second to recover but the prince would not allow that as he kicked him into the graveyard. Goku pushed himself up out of the muddy ground, wiping the brown muck off of his face. He looked up into the sky with a glare, finding the other Saijin smirking in his usual way. He grit his teeth and breathed, trying to calm himself down before he'd do damage to Vegeta or to anything around him. "What's the matter, Kakkarot?" Vegeta taunted, folding his arms in his usual smug fashion, "Eating too little make you weak?" Goku's throat released a raspy noise that indicated he was trying his best not to growl, "I told you, I'm just fine Vegeta." The older man sneered, cocking his head to the side, 'That makes one of us.' The Prince of Saijins let his arms unfold and he smirked again, "Well, let's just see about that!" He inhaled a great amount of air and he began to scream out, "Final Flash!" Goku's eyes widened, completely taken aback, "Vegeta, are you nuts!?" The blast ripped through the air at a blinding rate, the yellow light concentrated directly at his opponent. The ground was split and charred, the energy cutting through it as a hot knife cuts through butter. But the blast was defused after the black-haired man retaliated, shouting out, "Kamehameha!"  
  
By this time though, Vegeta wasn't in sight and Goku searched the sky for his figure which held no trace. He couldn't sense his ki anymore, but he knew his attack hadn't hit him..so what happened? "Asshole!" was what he heard before an elbow connected with his back causing him to fall, once again, into the mud. "Damnit, Vegeta! Stop it!" Goku's voice contained growing anger as he got up, tossing his long hair out of his face. The strands were dirtied with the wet earth, smearing brown with gold. "Make me," the brunette mused, pushing Goku who almost fell over but was able to quickly recover. Vegeta laughed, flying up into the air and sending another group of blasts in Goku's direction. The taller Saijin easily dodged the attacks, flying up into the air as well. They needed to stay away from the ground where they might disrupt the resting place of so many people. Vegeta blasted off towards Goku's advance to meet him halfway, trying his best to land a punch though Goku was too fast for him. 'Damnit! Damnit! DAMNIT!' Vegeta cursed, trying his best to swing faster but Goku was still there, easily deflecting him but not hitting back. Finally, fed up, Vegeta threw an energy blast with a punch, catching the younger Saijin off guard. With his concentration now broken, Vegeta took this time to get as many punches as he could in. He slammed his right fist into Goku's chin, 'This is for our first fight.' He followed the previous punch with a sock to the stomach, 'This is for coming to Namek.' He drew back quickly, not hesitating as he brought his hands forward to punch both sides of Goku's chest, launching blasts into him directly after impact, 'And THAT'S for becoming a SUPER SAIJIN BEFORE ME!!'  
  
Goku flew backward, spiraling out of control and landing in a tree, breaking a few branches in the process. The brown limbs cracked and fell to the ground with large thuds. The white bird he had seen earlier flapped it's wings vigorously, escaping to find shelter. He shook his head, letting anger over take him again. He powered up, and took off of the tree at such a high speed that the launch broke off the branch he had been on. He flew up at Vegeta faster than the prince realized and the brunette was suddenly tackled in the gut, losing all the air that was in his lungs. They flew upwards for a few moments and then Goku screeched to a halt, letting Vegeta fall downwards. The brunette shook his head, snapping out of it, 'Damn asshole! I will not let you beat me this time! Not ever again!!' He flew back up to Goku, a golden trail of light following him to show where he had been, and continued to throw more punches and kicks at Goku who was more cautious than last time. "Stop it," the black-haired man hissed, grabbing Vegeta's arm and twisting it around, forcing Vegeta to move as well. He turned around so he wasn't facing Goku in an attempt to relieve the pain in his elbow, but by doing so he only made his situation worse. "Let me go you foolish bastard!" Vegeta screamed in rage, his eyes glowing oddly as he squirmed in the taller man's grasp. "Promise me you won't fight," Goku asked in a calm, yet stern tone. He wanted to let Vegeta know he wasn't joking. "I promise you nothing, you-" Vegeta began, snarling as he attempted to kick Goku. The earth-raised Saijin released a loud, short growl to express how displeased he was. He also expressed it by rearranging Vegeta's arm, twisting it behind his back and pulling as if trying to make the back of his hand touch his head. The prince roared at the pain that jabbed in his shoulder, causing it to throb in annoyance. His nose flared and all he cared about at that moment was finding a way of escape and getting revenge.  
  
"Promise me!" Goku no longer asked, but demanded, screaming into Vegeta's ear. Why was the thought of fighting Vegeta bothering him so much? He dully noted that he had begun to shake, but he was sure it wasn't noticeable to Vegeta. But it had been. 'Damn jerk-off! Just let me go already! Fuck! Why the hell is he trembling!?' the shorter man was confused, but anger was still his prominent emotion. He had to get out of this grip. He had to inflict pain. He had to show Goku that he wasn't some pathetic weakling that he could beat any time he wanted. He was Vegeta, the Prince of all Saijins. This earth-raised Saijin still needed to know his place. He was third-class while Vegeta was royalty. 'He should have been dead long ago, damnit!' Vegeta angrily spat at himself for not being able to eliminate his rival at their first meeting. "Promise me, Vegeta!" Goku's voice rang out again, his breath felt on his neck causing his skin to crawl. He didn't know why, but he assumed it was because of the temperature change. Vegeta turned his head slowly, looking over his shoulder. Goku raised an eye ridge as Vegeta's lips turned upright. His eyes were unusually dark and he opened his mouth to speak, pausing for a few moments. His voice was low, and could have been mistaken for being soft, but it definitely contained emotions normal for Vegeta: mockery, anger, coldness...  
  
"....Fuck..you."  
  
Goku twisted his arm up further and this time Vegeta could not resist the cry that escaped his lips. The damn asshole nearly ripped off his arm! Before he knew he was counter-attacking his foot connected with Goku's kneecap, forcing it into an unnatural position. The black-haired Saijin released a strange noise as he clutched his leg, letting go of Vegeta. The brunette had become so strong in a way...or maybe Vegeta had been right and he was getting weak? 'Damnit! Why is he doing this!?' Goku silently questioned, looking up for an answer. But a hand full of clenched fingers was his reply. He was knocked back a few feet but he let his good leg extend to meet Vegeta's stomach. The prince coughed roughly, almost vomiting it seemed, but able to resist the reflex. Goku took this time to fix his misaligned kneecap, wincing as he put in it's proper place. Vegeta held his stomach with his left hand, gathering energy with his right. Goku backed up, flying higher into the air as Vegeta threw the blast at him, continuously regenerating the blast and launching it from his palm. Goku dodged most of them, a few were lucky and nicked his clothing or brushed against his skin, scratching it. Why wasn't he fighting so well tonight? The fight should have already been over with by normal standards. He clenched his fists, letting his elbows bend so his arms were about waist level. He took a breath and let his energy expand to create a force field around himself so Vegeta's blasts wouldn't even reach him. He gazed down at Vegeta whose eyes were wide, not from shock, but madness. The prince stopped the futile assaults, letting his arms drop to his sides. Perspiration began to build, a few droplets straying down the side of his head, splashing softly onto his navy blue outfit. Goku began to relax slightly, noticing that Vegeta was holding still, and he figured that the prince had used the fight to vent some of his frustration, and now that he relieved some stress, he would stop.  
  
Taking a brave step, Goku dropped out of his Super Saijin state and descended until he was eye level with Vegeta. The brunette closed his eyes, slowly letting his power level drop, first from Super Saijin level two, then to level one, and then to normal. He breathed for a few minutes, feeling Goku's gaze upon him. A relentless gaze, a confused gaze...Kakkarot never understood...How could he? It was a joke for Goku to even say that he might understand some things about Vegeta. The other Saijin was raised on this pathetic planet called Earth after all. The Earth...the place that birthed...Bulma. A wave of emotion washed over him, one he wasn't sure of. It was anger, disgust, but loneliness and disappointment as well...so many negative emotions and feelings. At least he had those, the ones he always resorted to, the ones he knew so well..he had lost the others he had gained on the planet when Bulma died. Love, affection, concern..those were emotions of a weakling. And he had let himself be with a weakling and he had let that weakling become a part of his life. And now he had lost that weakling and those weak feelings. Or did he? No...he still felt those feelings, but he didn't want them anymore. He wanted to go back to the way he was, back to the left, to the black. He wanted to move from where he was at that moment, in the middle, in the grey, fuzzy area that he couldn't understand. Damn, he hated this. When he finally thought he had some routine to his life, when he finally thought everything would be okay...this had to come along and fuck everything up. Damnit.  
  
But did it matter, really? What else was there to do? Train to get better, to get stronger, to beat Kakkarot? '"Everyone knows you're a tough guy, but you've got to rest now",' Bulma's words echoed through Vegeta's mind; he was beginning to lose touch with the world, Goku's stare began to annoy him less and less as he concentrated more and more on the things he was reviewing inside of his head. God, everyone he had interacted with..how many of them cared? How many of them made a difference? His father, Nappa, Radditz, Kakkarot, Gohan, Krillin, Yamcha, Tien, Chaozu, Chi-chi, Oolong, Piccolo, Kakkarot, Dodoria, Zarbon, Guldo, Racom, Jeice, Berter, Ginyu, Freiza, Kakkarot, Bulma, Trunks, Bra, Androids 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, Cell, Kakkarot..Kakkarot......Kakkarot. His muscles tensed, then relaxed, and then tensed again. Kakkarot and his determination, Kakkarot and his smile, Kakkarot and his laughter, Kakkarot and his friends, Kakkarot and his mercy, Kakkarot and his loyalty, Kakkarot and his hunger, Kakkarot and his faithfulness, Kakkarot and his certainty, Kakkarot and his damn ability to beat him at everything! Damn him! Damn Kakkarot! Damn him for rubbing in his mistakes! Damn him for proving him wrong! Damn him for letting him live! Damn him for helping him even when he didn't ask or want it! Damn him for caring! Damn him for being unselfish! And damn him for understanding!!.....For.......understanding. Damn him.....Kakkarot.  
  
A screech lurched out of the brunette's throat involuntarily..he just couldn't stand it anymore!! Goku jumped in surprise, wincing as well as the strange noise grated on his ears, his mind still reeling and wondering what was going on. Vegeta flew at Goku, blasting up to his maximum ability and successfully catching the younger Saijin off guard. His fist connected with Goku's nose and the black-haired man moved several feet backwards, cupping his face with his hands. He drew back his hands to see crimson liquid smeared across them, and the stings of pain he felt confirmed that Vegeta had done a substantial amount of damage to his nose. "What the hell was that for!?" Goku yelled at the top of his lungs, wiping his blood off onto his orange gi pants. Vegeta nodded his head upwards, gesturing in such a way that confused Goku even more. Why was he nodding!? You don't nod to a question that isn't a yes or no question! "Damnit Vegeta!" Goku growled angrily, unsure of what to do with the prince. "I think you know what it's for," Vegeta said after a moment, folding his arms as small flickers of energy passed across and over his body. 'What is he talking about??' Goku pondered, grinding his teeth in an attempt to relieve some stress. "Still lost?" Vegeta questioned, his voice near silent. Slowly he moved towards Goku, flying at a steady pace at first until he got within a yard of the black-haired Saijin, and then he cut back his speed, making Goku nervous. Vegeta let his eyelids drop to half-closed, leaning dangerously close to Goku, but not touching him. He leaned his head forward, around to the side of Goku's head. The breath of the older Saijin wasn't at a normal temperature, but a bit cooler. Goku tried to calm himself but for some reason his inhaling and exhaling wasn't staying uniform when Vegeta was this close to him. What was wrong with him...?  
  
Vegeta's lips paused before Goku's ear and he looked at the other Saijin, wondering if the man would move or say something. But he didn't, he merely sat, waiting for Vegeta to say whatever he wished to say. The Prince of Saijins smirked as he bunched his fingers up to form a fist; he let his cheek come so close to Goku's that his opponent could feel him without actually physically touching him. Vegeta brought up his left hand, which wasn't formed into a fist like his right, and cupped it, holding it up to the side of his face so it looked as though he was telling Goku a secret. His words were distinct, there was no mistake about what he said, and he spoke calmly, smoothly, adding confusion to the onslaught of emotions that followed the small phrase Vegeta whispered into his ear soothingly, "...I hate you, Kakkarot." A fist slammed into his torso, causing him to reel through the air out of control. Vegeta gathered his breath and called out, "BIG BANG ATTACK!!" His hands jutted outward and the blast sent Goku tumbling to the ground. His body rolled and slid, destroying everything in it's path. Bushes were mowed over, scratching his skin, tombstones her broken, chipped, completely destroyed as he passed by, or through them. Trees tumbled, crushing anything in their way as they fell, and Goku landed, bruised and slightly bloody, on a fresh grave. He shook his head, feeling the mud move beneath his body with each breath. His eyes slowly opened and he instantly locked onto Vegeta's ki, not daring to let it escape his attention. He stood, slowly, his eyes unmoving from the spot in the sky which Vegeta was occupying. He vaguely noted that his hair sagged and pressed against his body, starting from about the neck, clinging all the way down to around his thighs. He moved a strand of golden hair that obscured his perfect view of the Saijin prince out of the way. They had all said Vegeta was an asshole. Maybe they were right. Or maybe he needed to be taught some manners: the shorter man hadn't owned any. Pretty ironic for a prince, actually. To be a brat was one thing, but to have no etiquette was another. Things must've been very strange on Vegeta-sai.  
  
Vegeta-sai..Vegeta...he hadn't let his eyes stray from Vegeta's form. He wouldn't let him get away now. He wouldn't allow him anymore lucky shots. He was done with playing games. He was done with being toyed with. It was time to show Vegeta who was the boss, and it didn't matter who was what rank. What mattered was who was stronger. Obviously Vegeta had never been taught this valuable lesson. "I don't care," Goku replied, knowing that somehow over their great distance, Vegeta had been able to hear him. And he had. 'I'm glad,' Vegeta grinned his normal cocky battle grin, hoping to provoke the Saijin even more. It was his dream for Goku not to care, and now he didn't. But within the depths of the prince's soul, it stung harshly for Goku to say such a thing. It hurt more than any wound he had had before, but the satisfaction it caused at the same time, drowned the pain out. But yet, a thought crossed Vegeta's mind..what if Kakkarot meant he didn't care that Vegeta hated him, and that he was going to continue the way they had? He shook his head slightly to himself..he didn't know how to react to that! He...had to know. And so he stared back into Goku's eyes, letting himself prod carefully to see what Goku meant. But there was some type of interference, Goku wasn't focused on that, it was too difficult to find what he was looking for, Goku was only...waiting for him to make his move.  
  
"Then fuck off," Vegeta responded, his expression losing it's cockiness and returning to it's normal scowl. "Why don't YOU?" Goku asked, teleporting himself behind Vegeta and blasting his back. He cried out in surprise and pain, turning around at the exact moment Goku brought his fist forward, punching his jaw so hard it caused him to falter for a few seconds. Goku took this time to grab the prince by his hair, and while holding him in place, continued to deliver a series of blows to his chest. He brought his knee up, slamming it into Vegeta's midsection. The prince was not only surprised, but fairly injured by the attack, for he coughed up a bit of blood before gaining his senses. Goku went to kick him, but Vegeta was able to block the advance by grasping onto Goku's shin, therefore being pushed through the air instead of kicked. After Goku fully extended his leg, Vegeta flipped himself around, throwing Goku over his shoulder. But the black-haired man rebounded, tucking himself around and spinning so that when he uncurled he was facing Vegeta again. He grasped Vegeta's shoulders in a death grip, digging his short nails into the prince's skin, and before the brunette had time to reply Goku head-butted him, dazing the smaller man. He spun the lithe form around, forcing Vegeta's back against his knee and pulling on his arms and legs, as if trying to break him in two.  
  
Vegeta yelped, trying to ignore the searing pain that coursed up and down his spine, he struggled wildly to get free with no avail. 'God, NO! I can't lose! I just can't! Damn Kakkarot! I CAN'T lose!!' Vegeta thought frantically, trying his best to escape from Goku's hold. And he mustered enough strength to do the only thing he could think of to do. He took a breath, lurched his head forward and spat at the younger Saijin's face. Goku exclaimed, letting out a disgusted, though surprised, cry as he released Vegeta to clean off his face. The prince backed off, bending his back as if making sure that it still worked properly. Goku looked up at him and Vegeta involuntarily shuddered. There was something about him...the way Goku looked at that moment. He just looked so..angry. He had never looked quite like that when fighting him before. It was odd; it didn't feel right. And for a brief moment Vegeta wondered if he had chosen to do the correct thing by enticing the other Saijin. But that thought was quickly dismissed with another. Regret. He felt like whatever punishment Goku would do - he deserved it. Memories of the endless hours of training flashed in Vegeta's mind. All those hours spent...all those hours wasted...all those hours that didn't do anything. He recalled what had occurred for him to become a Super Saijin for the first time.  
  
He had been standing on the rugged dead planet, a enormous electrical storm raging before his eyes, matching his very mood. And then the meteors had begun to shower the landscape and he soon realized that it threatened his capsule. The capsule that would be his only way off the barren wasteland. He had defended it with all his might, blasting and shooting, flying left and right. And then the meteors had stopped falling, and he turned to look into the sky. The largest of the meteors came crashing down, pushing through the clouds towards him and his capsule. The energy he had spent while training in 450 times Earth's normal gravity had taken it's toll on his body. But he wouldn't give up: this was life or death. He kept his blast flowing and eventually the meteor gave, bursting into smaller sections of itself. And one of the pieces smashed into him, forcing him through edges of cliffs and into the ground. He had been broken, bloody, beaten..and yet he had managed to survive and win. His hand trembled as he forced himself to grab onto the nearest ledge to lift himself. If felt like every part of his body was bruised if not broken or bleeding. And yet he still managed to lift himself up into a kneeling position, shaking slightly because of the exertion. And then..he snapped. He suddenly had felt his body shake and his stomach twist. He didn't care about anything or anyone. Not Kakkarot. Not Bulma. Not even himself. Especially not himself. He didn't care about becoming a Super Saijin, he didn't care about anything! He had only one want at that time, one he hadn't ever had before, one that consumed his entire entity and one that he hadn't told anyone about.  
  
He wanted to die.  
  
That was when the fury of emotions gushed out over his body, giving him a newfound strength. He had thrown his head back, screaming at the surge and the confusion. God, how he had been so confused...And then, he simply sat on the ground, wondering what had occurred as he noticed the golden aura around his body. He blinked a few times, flexing various muscles as if testing them. And then he had gotten up, feeling a sensation he had never felt before. He almost felt..numb though he could still feel. It was his mind that was at rest, not his body. He was...mellow. Without a thought he flew back to his ship to get off the hellhole. He had punched in the coordinates for Earth, knowing he would have to take a shower and change his clothes. His clothes..he had looked at himself..what a mess. The aura was still there. Strange. But nonetheless he took a shower, letting the hot liquid cleanse his skin of dried blood and dirt. He had stepped out of the shower and begun to dry himself as something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. The fogged mirror had shown a yellow reflection. He stood, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, in anticipation. His hand wiped off an area of the mirror to show a clear reflection instead of a hazy one. And he had gasped as he had looked into his eyes...his eyes that had been black were now blue. He quickly wiped off more of the condensation to expose his head and torso. At first all he could do was stare and marvel..he was...a Super Saijin. Then he laughed enthusiastically, proudly, screaming out to whomever could hear him that Kakkarot wasn't the only Super Saijin in existence. And since then he had completely forgotten about his only wish the moment he had turned Super Saijin..until now.  
  
Because he began to feel the same way he had. Goku's angry look darkened even more, his eyes narrowing at the prince. "You always fought dirty, Vegeta. You could never accept the fact that you just aren't stronger than everyone else," Goku's voice as low and harsh, and for some reason, each word stung Vegeta worse than the previous one, infecting his body like a virus. A virus that stripped him of his pride, his arrogance, his honor, and determination. He was losing it all...and he knew it. "Kiss my ass, Kakkarot," he didn't know what he was saying until it was said, his mouth had just opened and the words had spewed out quicker than he could stop them. He realized instantly that it had merely been a reflex. He hadn't meant it. He began to wonder if he had ever meant it. But it was too late to apologize, Goku's expression informed him that there was no turning back. "Goddamnit!!" Goku shouted, punching Vegeta in the jaw, causing him to lean back. The brunette shook his head, spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva. He felt so dazed...and yet....he laughed. He laughed at the younger Saijin. At first it was a mocking laughter, light as if it meant nothing, but then it deepened until he was laughing like he had never done before. "Stop it!" Goku yelled, enraged at Vegeta's actions, assuming that the prince was making fun of him. In truth, the prince was not sure what he was doing himself. But he couldn't stop, not when he was so far into the laughter. It was another first for him and he wanted to experience it completely, he laughed louder and harder, his muscles in his cheeks beginning to hurt as he rested his hands on his knees for support. His face turned red and he gasped for air inbetween his bursts. "Damnit! Shut up!" Goku was enraged by now, and he slapped Vegeta twice. The prince instantly stopped his laughter and attempted an attack as if it second nature. His fist connected with Goku's eye socket before he realized what had occurred. Goku was slightly stunned, but not injured. He wanted to be sure that he was not the one receiving anymore injuries that night.  
  
He mimicked Vegeta's movement, causing the smaller Saijin to cry out. He quickly followed with a punch to the stomach. And then he paused to see if Vegeta would respond. The prince looked up at him, slowly, his body trembling slightly..he felt so cold all of the sudden. Vegeta enticed him again, "C'mon, you can do better than that!" And so Goku proved to him that he could by taking him and throwing him into the ground. He flew down, nudging Vegeta onto his foot before tossing him up into the air so that he could drop kick him. Goku teleported behind him, smashing into his back with his elbow before appearing in front of the prince to grab him. Vegeta blinked a few times, letting empty words be his only offense...or was it his only defense? It didn't matter, he just let the syllables slip out, "You suck." Goku squeezed him with all his might, wanting to scream out his frustration. 'All those years and never once did you tell me thank you or your welcome..you just didn't care, Vegeta! Well, I don't want to care anymore either!!' Goku opened his mouth though no sounds escaped, he only let his grip get tighter and tighter. Vegeta, although, was beginning to cry out, the pain was unbearable, especially since he wasn't in Super Saijin form. It wasn't too long before he heard the sickening crack of bones breaking. His mind screamed out the pain that his body would not. It wasn't much. Just a few ribs. But yet, that wasn't what was hurting. But the physical pain helped bury some of it, even though his mind kept telling him that somehow Goku was laughing at him right at that moment....And then, Goku dropped him to look at his achievement. "Is that," he paused to swallow and take a breath, "all you got, Kakkarot? Really now, that's pathetic. Just like you. You don't have the right to share the same air that I breathe." Goku's eyes flared and his teeth ground against each other. 'Yeah, Kakkarot. Use your anger,' Vegeta felt a smile twitching his lips as he looked over the other Saijin. Kakkarot...he was so.......  
  
"This is MY planet Vegeta! YOU stop breathing MY air!" the black-haired man replied, holding his arms back before thrusting them out while screaming, "KAMEHAMEHA!!" And then Vegeta knew. He wasn't sure how. He must've just searched at that moment in time, but...Goku didn't care whether Vegeta hated him or not, he had never cared what Vegeta thought about him. Never. And then, _it_ happened again, only this time, worse: Vegeta didn't care either. He didn't care about his training, his strength, this fight. He didn't care whether he'd live or die or whether Kakkarot lived or.....or died. Whether Kakkarot.... The kamehameha wave hit him with a great deal of force, able to remove a few layers of skin from his chest within the first second. If he hadn't been hit he probably would've throw up. He was disgusted with...himself. It was about damn time that Kakkarot didn't show mercy. At least it'd be over now. And he wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. Not like he cared. Did he.....care? The blast pushed further against him and into him, and he just stared blankly up into the sky..where he had last seen Goku. He suddenly began to recall different images of Goku: Goku beaten, both legs broken. Goku fighting the Ginyu force. Goku looking down at him as he told the larger Saijin his dying words. Goku with the strange outfit he came back with when he returned from outer space. Goku promising to fight him. Goku fighting Android 19 and falling to the heart virus. Goku casually as a Super Saijin. Goku fighting in the Cell games. Goku giving up his life in attempt to save everyone else's....that same Goku was here, killing him. And yet, he still did not care. He didn't care if Goku's attack ripped him to shreds. In fact, he invited it.  
  
His memories finally returned, and he began to think of all that had happened to him during his life all at once. God, he just wanted it to end! He didn't want to remember these things! He didn't want to think these thoughts! He didn't want to care anymore! Care? He was still....caring? Why!? It was completely absurd! He didn't need to! He didn't need anyone or anything! He just needed to be left alone! ...The thought nearly made him laugh. How was he able to care when he had been hurt so many times? He couldn't, rather, he shouldn't have. Goku's attack finally smashed him into the ground singeing his skin and tearing at his clothes. The pain was extraordinary, a comfort in a bizarre type of way. Pain was a good thing. It was something he was accustomed to, both giving and receiving. But pain could be strange sometimes..coming in different forms other than physical pain. Physical pain he was a master at dealing with, but emotionally, he was more confused than Goku as a kid trying to count. He'd been so alone his whole life....  
  
..That was it.....!  
  
He...didn't want to be...alone anymore.  
  
But he was alone. Completely and utterly alone like he had been for his entire life. Or so he had always thought. His mind reeled, bringing to his attention all the times he had and had not had someone there with him. Mainly for the first half of his life he fended for himself. And for some reason he remembered when he had been thrown into that jail cell on Freiza's ship so many years ago. Sitting there in his uniform that told that he was the Prince of Saijins; he stared at the ground blankly. There was nothing else better to do than sit there. And think. Of course back then he had a one track mind, unlike now which pondered things he hadn't considered. Sitting there alone, in that cold damp cell, blasting whatever rats were brave enough to venture into his sight. He wanted to kill, to destroy..because that was all that was exposed to him. Pride and power. That was all that was needed to enjoy life. And then he had fought with Goku, and his pride was shredded and his power tested. And ever since then he had not been able to beat Goku, and it annoyed him so...because it went against everything that had been taught to him. Where was pride and power then? Where had it gotten him? What did it ever do for him? It made him bitter, angry, alone. So was that the right way to feel? He had always thought so...but Goku was different. He was a Saijin and he wasn't bitter, angry, or alone. He was happy, carefree, and friendly. Goku cared. Were Saijins inherently blood-thirsty or was it just the way the culture had raised them? They were naturally violent, but not bitter, angry, or...alone. Goku proved the system wrong. He was the strongest of them all and yet he carried all the emotions and characteristics of a weakling. Mercy, trust, honesty, and..love...was love so weak? Love had kept Goku and his friends together and alive. Love was so strange too because it was like pain in the way that there were different types of both. Love was stranger though, it was something uncontrollable and in the mind...something generated from the mind, not the body. That was lust...lust wasn't truly love, lust was a bodily craving. Love was something different...special...  
  
There was love between friends, love between family, love between mates, the love of something....emotions were so..confusing. Or maybe they were simpler than he thought. He felt them all the time, day and night, constantly, never ceasing. He felt them even now. He felt defeat. He felt shame. He felt regret. He felt hopelessness. He felt stupid. He felt despair. He felt sick. He felt confused. He felt anxious. He felt lost. He felt uncertain. He felt...lonely.  
  
His hearing slowly returned and the sound of rain drops lightly pattering the foliage alerted him that another storm was passing through. This one was light though, no lighting or thunder was produced. The sound was quiet and soothing which calmed his shaking. Shaking? He was shaking? He sniffled, coughing slightly as he sobbed. Oh god....no....he was crying. He suddenly became aware of himself and his surroundings. He was prone on the ground, in a muddy mess. His chest hurt, his eyes burned as they released hot tears. The warm liquid flowed down the side of his face, hardly noticeable against the rain. He sensed a power level nearby. It was Goku. Unmistakable. Undeniable. It was Goku. 'Is just going to stand there!? Why won't he just leave me!?' Vegeta thought as his lungs begged for more air in between his sobs. 'God, look at me! I...I....' he paused, sniffled, before bursting out, crying harder then before, '...I don't care, damnit! I just don't care anymore!!' And yet he didn't want the younger Saijin to see him as he was...an empty shell of a man. He curled up onto his side, trying to hide his face from Goku. 'Just leave me, Kakkarot, please,' the prince begged, shivering against the cold. Soft footsteps headed in his direction, and he curled up even tighter than before. He was so ashamed, he couldn't face Goku at a time like this. He couldn't face anyone anymore. Not even himself. How he just wished he had died..how he wished he had gone to Hell where he belonged...  
  
The black-haired man approached him, silently reprimanding himself with every passing second, calling him every curse word he could think of that Vegeta had once used. 'Damnit! Look at what you've done to him!!' Goku's mind screamed as he looked over the body of the small Saijin in front of him. His clothes were nearly rags, his chest had a wound that in all likelihood would leave a scar even though it was a wonder that he didn't die from it, and he was a complete wreck..crying his eyes out. God how he wanted to kill himself! How foolish of him to left his anger get control of and cloud his judgment! Damn..he didn't know what to do. He wanted to make it better, to make it up to Vegeta, but he didn't know how. He just knew he had to do..something. He knelt, trying to decide whether or not he should attempt to help the prince. 'Just leave, Kakkarot, just leave...' Vegeta thought, shaking his head, knowing that deep down he wanted the man to stay. He was so alone...he wanted - he needed - the company. Goku slowly reached out to him when a small movement caught his eye. He blinked for a few moments, just staring at the sight in the mud. And then realization struck him and he gasped, his eyes widening. He carefully lifted Vegeta to examine him, noting that the man had lost all strength. Vegeta leaned into his body, letting his head rest on Goku's shoulder, he was getting so tired...so...sleepy....he was so tired, of everything..of living. Goku hesitantly began to rub his hand down Vegeta's back, nervous about what he was doing and what he was going to find. He hoped it was his imagination but...His hand touched the base of the furry appendage and Goku closed his eyes as he felt self-loathe overcome him. Vegeta had regrown his tail. 


	5. 4: Confusion

**Chapter 4: Confusion**  
  
Goku took a few breaths to work the shock out of his system. His hand retreated to a more supportive position against Vegeta's back as he gathered himself to take Vegeta back to C.C. A gust of wind blew through, trying to clear the landscape of scattered leaves, directly before a flash of lightning flickered against the sky, thereafter sending out a low rumbling roll of thunder. The prince's eyelids fluttered open, a dazed expression marked across his face as his mind began to come to grips with reality. "Wha-" Vegeta's first attempt to speak since the fight was evident, his voice was quiet, raspy, and it cracked. Slightly embarrassed the brunette swallowed, took a breath, and tried again, "What do you think you're doing, Kakkarot?" Goku looked down at him unable to hide his frown with a mask of cheerfulness. He didn't even try this time. He didn't really care. If Vegeta wasn't acting normal, why should he? "You need help," the other Saijin replied after a moment, but he dared not to move - yet. "I..I don't need any help," Vegeta insisted, pushing away from Goku with such little force it was no effort for the black-haired man to _keep_ holding onto him. Goku let him push away from him because it made no difference, "Yes, you do." Finding his strength had left him completely, Vegeta gave up, falling limp in Goku's arm. The rain stopped falling but the lightning continued on, casting light upon the Saijins every few moments. Vegeta's dejected voice rang through Goku's ears as he whispered, "You can't help me, Kakkarot."  
  
"You don't know that," Goku insisted, his eyebrows knitting together intensely. "Let go of me, Kakkarot," Vegeta demanded, again trying to push himself away, "You're acting like a fool." Goku unintentionally gripped the prince tighter, "Why? Because I care?" Vegeta let out a gruff snort wishing that somehow he could find strength to move, "Whatever, Kakkarot." Goku looked intently on Vegeta's face, trying to look the older Saijin in the eyes, "Hey! Don't tell me how I feel, how I think, or what I know!" The brunette turned his gaze away, a curt frown marked on his face, 'You just don't understand, Kakkarot.' After the silence began Goku started to wonder what he should do - whether to sit Vegeta down or carry him elsewhere. He examined the smaller man, a faint smile lining his lips. Why would Vegeta make him smile? And what an odd time to do so. "Wanna talk about it?" Goku questioned softly, rearranging their position so that Goku was sitting on the ground with Vegeta in his arms. The small man let out a near silent whimper of protest as his injuries were reinflamed by the movement. "What?" the Prince of Saijins asked, his lips parting slightly in confusion when he forced himself to surpass the pain. He blinked and paused for a few seconds to interpret what Goku meant and then he replied, "No." Goku nodded slightly, barely moving, indulging in his own thoughts. 'I'm going to have to heal him but I don't have any senzu beans..I doubt Vegeta would want me to move much less, could stand for me to move,' Goku sighed quietly, wishing he could massage his strained eyebrows. More than that, though, he wished he could make Vegeta feel better. He cursed his stupidity again, becoming a bit more frustrated.  
  
"Sometimes it helps to talk about it," Goku muttered out loud, whether he was giving advice to Vegeta or to himself, he wasn't sure. 'Asshole. Why do you try to force it out of me?' Vegeta asked himself, looking away as if he had never heard Goku in the first place. He sighed lightly, realizing that at this point it really didn't matter - it really didn't make a difference. After a few moments of hesitation Vegeta drew in a shaky breath, pausing before letting quiet words slip over his lips, "I guess...no one bothered to listen before." Goku looked down at him intently, an urge to hold him and caress him overwhelmed his being. He'd never had that feeling before with anyone. It was true he didn't want his friends to be hurt, but he had never wanted to physically touch them to ease their pain. It confused him, but he had no time to waste pondering such things, he had to talk with Vegeta now and let him know that he was sorry for what he had done to the prince. "I'll listen," Goku whispered, leaning over so that Vegeta had his undivided attention, "I promise." Vegeta licked his dry lips, uncertain on what he should do: half of him screamed to blurt it out to see if it would make him feel better, but the other half told him not to, that is was stupid to tell the younger Saijin anything about himself. Vegeta closed his eyes knowing that the real reason that he didn't want to tell Goku was not because it was stupid, but because he was afraid. Pathetic. The Prince of Saijins was afraid. The Prince of Saijins was afraid of...What _was_ he afraid of? He wasn't sure. Pain? Why would he be afraid of that? He was so used to it..  
  
'Stop it,' he told himself, knowing that he was running in circles, and with each new question the only answer would be another question and so on and so on. He opened his mouth to tell Goku something about his life, but no words could come forth. He was at a loss. What could he say? What could he tell Goku? What did it matter? He could have said hundreds of things about his life long ago or about recent occurrences...he could have talked about when he was forced to join Freiza or how he had been held in the jail cell, or how he was alone with Nappa and Radditz as his only companions, or how he felt when Freiza had killed him, or the way he felt when he was in Hell, or he could have told him about how he had become a Super Saijin, or he could have told him about how he and Bulma had found each other, or how he needed the thrill of the battle, or how he knew he was a bad father, or how he felt at that moment...But no words came out because they all wanted to come out at once, forcing him into silence. What was the point in telling someone something that happened long ago when they couldn't even do anything about it? 'Like he'd understand anyways,' Vegeta told himself, closing his mouth again.  
  
"Please, Vegeta," Goku still whispered, again resisting the urge to caress Vegeta's hair to soothe him, "I promise I won't make fun of you." Vegeta swallowed, still nervous. He could trust Goku, right? '_What_ am I thinking!? Trust that idiot!? Why _should_ I tell him anything, anyways!' the brunette silently yelled, trying to clench his fists but only able to curl his fingers upwards. His whole body ached in protest, or it at least felt like it, and he verbally announced this. "Vegeta!" Goku called out in surprise and worry. He quickly scooped him up into his arms, ready to leap into the air. "Stop, Kakkarot," Vegeta demanded though his voice was weak, "Just...put me down." The black-haired man paused for a few seconds before complying, gently laying the prince down on the cold ground. He sat directly beside him, Vegeta's side and Goku's knees lightly pressed against one another. He wanted to tell Goku to go home and forget about him, but even if he had been able to he had a feeling that the younger Saijin wouldn't have listened to the request anyways. What the hell was with him, anyways? How could one little bump on the head when he was a child turn him into..such a human-like weakling? There was that word again..weakling. But still, Goku was a paradox he didn't understand, and maybe that was one of the reasons he had hated the man. Not truly hate, no..he was just frustrated. Goku frustrated him more than anything else had in his whole life. How was the man able to be such a bumbling happy idiot and a Saijin at the same time? Actually..he wasn't holding any of those characteristics at the moment, and that confused him even more. Ever since Goku had arrived he had been quiet, calm, and supportive, except for that brief time when Vegeta had been able to thoroughly enrage him to the point where he was not thinking; but other than that he hadn't been showing any of the typical happy-go-lucky foolishness Vegeta had always related him to. 'He does seem different..I wonder why..?' Vegeta thought when he suddenly felt a sneeze coming on.  
  
"Aahh....Aaahh..." Vegeta tried his best to resist the urge, but it was inevitable. Goku blinked a few times but he didn't move or say anything. "ACHOO!" the brunette sneezed directly into Goku, giving out a cry as the sudden movement of his body annoyed his injuries. The black-haired Saijin couldn't help but chuckle, smiling warmly down at the prince. Vegeta gave a few small moans before mumbling, "Sorry, Kakkarot..." Goku contained his laughter and he calmly replied, "It's alright, don't worry about it." The prince sniffled, wiggling his nose to get it to feel normal again, 'Why the hell did I just apologize...?' Goku switched his position, laying on his side next to Vegeta, his elbow bent, his hand propping up his head, "I can go get a senzu bean from Korin if you'd like." Vegeta stared up blankly for a few moments, "...No.....Thanks." He closed his eyes his teeth clenching lightly, 'Thanks? Stop it Vegeta, just STOP IT. Don't you realize how pathetic you sound? JUST STOP IT.' Goku nodded and replied, "Okay." Vegeta's mind began to replay a memory that had occurred a few years ago...  
  
He recalled the way Bulma had looked after they had had sex for the first time - the night Trunks was conceived. She glowed. Simply glowed. Her skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, some of her turquoise hair plastered to her forehead. Her breathing was beginning to return to normal, the warm carbon dioxide being forced past her lips, and those smooth lips had been upturned into a content - very content - smile. He had rolled over, preparing to leave the room, and her, until whenever he wished to return. But she had reached out, wrapping her arm around his waist to pull him back down. He could have easily escaped her grasp but curiosity got the best of him and he stayed to hear her reasoning. "Don't go," she had whispered, laying on her side, "I need you here." How intrigued he had become. _Why_ would someone _need_ for him to be with them? How interesting..And so he had stayed. He had lied back down and she had curled against him, her body heat keeping him warm. It was quite an unusual situation because he had been used to sleeping even when he was uncomfortable - temperature wise. But she had kept him warm all throughout the night.  
  
He probably could've fallen asleep at that moment, even on the cold muddy ground, if he had allowed, or willed, himself to do so. But he opened his eyes to see Goku next to him, his body in the exact position that Bulma was in in the memory he had just recalled. It was strange for him to see the black-haired man like so, but for even stranger reasons he wasn't annoyed by it. 'Don't you dare relate Bulma to that fool,' Vegeta's mind warned and he felt a flicker of anger pass through him. Did Goku even notice how broken he was at the moment? How broken he had always been? Bulma noticed it, he knew that she knew; but she had never said anything though she offered comfort. Again, how interesting that she could ease his pain without acknowledging the problem, yet at the same time know what was wrong. But was Goku capable of such properties? No. He couldn't. And why not? 'DAMNIT. I told you to STOP IT!' his mind screamed, another pulse of anger rushing through him, this one stronger than the last. 'What have you got to lose? What difference does it make?' he heard himself proving a good point. 'Are you afraid, Vegeta? Of course you are,' the little voice in the back of his head began to taunt, 'You. The Prince of Saijins..is afraid of a lowly third class warrior who doesn't know a damn thing about the Saijin ways. You. The Prince of Saijins..is afraid that if you tell someone about how you feel that they'll use it against you and shove it in your face. You. The Prince of Saijins..is afraid that if you accept the fact that they care, they'll turn around, beat you into the ground, spit in your face, and tear you shreds like all the others have done. But yet, the others didn't care, did they Vegeta? They didn't care if you lived or died, they didn't care how you felt or what you thought. You don't know how to react, do you Vegeta? So you're afraid because you think they're going to react the same way the others have. You think you can't trust anyone. You think you can't be honest. Would this man before you do what the others have done when he has forgiven you so many times?'  
  
'Why, Kakkarot?'  
  
'Why what? Why has he spared you? Why does he care? Why does he listen, and why does he try? You want to know all of the answers to these questions, don't you, Vegeta?' the voice continued lowly, solemnly, 'You want to know the answers but you don't want to admit that you want to know. You have no more pride, Vegeta. No more strength. No more will. No more ambition, and no more fire. You know there is nothing left and so there is nothing to lose. Why are you afraid of losing something you don't have?'  
  
'If I'm afraid of losing something I don't have..then I must have it.'  
  
He blinked, his lips parting as he finally understood that the voice, his conscience he mused, had done the unthinkable and made him be true to himself. He was now perplexed, however, 'What exactly do I have then?' Goku studied the confused face of the brunette, and decided that he should try to gently press him into a conversation, "Remember the time when I came back from Namek and you were wearing that shirt that said "Bad Man" on it?" Vegeta looked at him, an expression resembling shock written across his face. 'Now WHY would he bring that up now??' he thought, utterly confused by the question. He nodded after a moment's hesitation. "I was just thinking about how you never really wear anything other than your..well...normal outfit," Goku murmured, fully aware that the whole mention of the subject was stupid and it was probably a mistake to even speak of it in the first place. "You don't change much either, Kakkarot," Vegeta stated, defending his routine. "Yeah, I don't, do I?" Goku asked, his question more rhetorical than anything, "I guess I should go out and get some new clothes." Vegeta made a low noise as a response, and if Goku had to guess what it was it probably would have been a, "Hn." The smaller man sighed silently, 'You're pathetic, you know that, right? You are simply pathetic, Vegeta.'  
  
He took a few breaths as his body suddenly rushed with adrenaline. He licked his lips, his heart pounding in his chest, 'You are and have always been...No, STOP. I am not going to do this anymore. I'm not going to pretend, I'm not going to tell myself things I already know. I'm pathetic, so what? What does it matter? It's not going to bring Bulma back. I'm strong. What does that matter when Kakkarot is stronger? What am I doing, lying here next to him? What kind of weakling am _I_ to make him comfort me? I know that if I push away he will only hold on tighter. That is his way. I must not let this facade continue on. I must get away from here. Away from..Kakkarot...' He turned quickly to look at the black-haired Saijin, a jolt of pain electrifying his neck. "Vegeta?" Goku's calm voice made him refocus his attention and the brunette raised an eyebrow slightly. The younger Saijin had been studying the face of the prince, noting every detail so he could read, on some level, what was occurring inside of Vegeta's mind. And he hadn't been able to make a strong judgment with all things considered. Even at that moment, with Vegeta's dark eyes staring into his own, he was unable to come up with an assessment. "Vegeta?" he questioned again, gauging the smaller man's reactions. "Kakkarot," Vegeta's voice rasped before he cleared his throat and attempted speech again, "I....I'm tired. I think I shall go home now." Goku stared into his eyes, an overwhelming feeling that something about this situation wasn't exactly as it should have been pitted in his stomach, and even though he knew he shouldn't ignore his instincts, he merely nodded.  
  
"Would you like for me to fly you home?" Goku offered, his voice barely above the level of a whisper. A part of him screamed out hopefully that Vegeta would accept this - it was his worry, his doubt, his concern. "No, Kakkarot," Vegeta lightly insisted, forcing himself into a sitting position without showing a trace that he was in pain, "No. I shall make it on my own." His muscles nearly gave out upon themselves as he stood. He trembled for a moment before he began to gather the very last of his power. He felt obligated and so he said to the younger warrior, "Thank you." Goku felt compelled, but he did not move from his position, his emotions and instincts were stuck in a whirlwind. Vegeta gave him a slight nod before a white aura glowed around his body, "Goodbye, Kakkarot." The other Saijin didn't reply, but instead he watched the prince take off in the direction of Capsule Corp, his flight agonizingly slow. Guilt overcame Goku again and he held up his hand as a gesture of parting, whispering into the night, "Later, Vegeta..." 


	6. 5: Hatred

**Chapter 5: Hatred**  
  
He could feel the gaze of the other man on him as he flew pathetically towards his home. His home? No..It wasn't his, it was Bulma's. He'd go back nonetheless, because it was the only place he could think of to go. The only place he was slighty accepted on this planet. Vegeta winced, breathing in through his clenched teeth, his entire body screaming out at him, expressing it's agony. It took most of his strength not to scream out about the injuries Goku had inflicted upon him. His body was nearly limp, his arms drooping down in the air along with his legs, and his head was bowed. 'Just don't follow me,' Vegeta prayed, his chest stinging as the warm flesh met the cool night air, biting the wound and chilling him. 'Please don't follow me,' thought the prince, forcing his arm up, holding his palm against his chest to apply as much pressure as he could to stop the bleeding. It was so hard to believe that Kakkarot would do such a thing to him.  
  
No, maybe it wasn't. Everyone has their breaking point.  
  
Everyone..has their...breaking point......  
  
Pride. Honor. Fighting. Status. Why were these things so important to him? Pride. It wasn't truly pride. Pride was his outward expression of his conflicts, his arrogance; his pride wasn't pride, it was a representation of his self-respect. He forced himself to believe in pride, and honor. Honor was a way to protect his pride. Honor was a barrier, a shield he held up to defend his esteem. Fighting. Fighting was proof of pride and honor. It was to convince everyone else, and himself, that he was strong, that he was stable. Fighting was the only way he had ever known to do this..and when he wasn't the best.....he HAD to be the best, that was all there was to it. Status was a reassurane, just a reminder, just something he could lean against that had no true support. These things were important to him because without them...he had nothing. That was why he could not change. It risked ruining his routine, it risked losing all that he knew, and it risked destroying him completely. But what if he didn't lose these things but merely give up on them willingly? Then what? Then what would happen? Vegeta emitted a small noise, a bitter sweet smile pulling on his lips. He knew. But still, he wasn't satisfied.  
  
'I am pathetic,' he reminded himself once more, gazing across the horizon for any sign of Capsule Corp. Nothing but landscape. Nothing but trees, rocks, and things of that sort. Every once in awhile he passed a city, but it was never the right one. 'I'm so tired...' he dully thought as he noticed his pace had slowed dramatically. His eye lids were half closed and he was stunned that he'd be able to sleep when he was so badly battered. He was used to uncomfortableness but he had never felt so drowsy when it was at such a high degree and intensity of it. A brief flicker of worry crossed his mind but he instantly crushed it without another thought. 'I will make it home,' he was stating a fact, not necessarily reassuring himself. Within a few more minutes he made it into open skies, away from the clouds and the dying storm. Moonlight bathed him, glowing radiantly, softly, and without knowing, Vegeta began to relax just a bit. The air and the night was still and the moon look ominous in the sky: large and grey with a tint of blue. Vegeta didn't even register the fact that he was not in his Oozaru form, after all, he had his tail and he had looked at the moon, but even still, he was too tired to concentrate on anything but flying. He approached Capsule Corporation slowing down considerably to give him ample time to prepare for landing. He let his feet touch the doorstep and he eventually let gravity run its course as he completely dropped his ki. His hand met the doorknob and he gave it an experimental turn, of which it did move. Odd..the door was never left open.  
  
With great effort he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He shut it behind him, nearly gasping for breath because of the exertion. He was exhausted to say the least, the flight stealing most of the tiny bit of energy he had had. But as he turned to go upstairs and to his room, a sleepy voice rang through the air with surprise, "Dad, you're back!" Trunks rubbed his eyes, stepping closer towards his father. So that's why the door was open..Trunks was hoping he would return.. Vegeta would have most likely escaped if he could have, but he was too weak to make it now and so he only waited for the impending question. When Trunks' vision focused the first thing he did was blink. He sat for a few moments in a complete daze as if he was still dreaming, and then he began to look his father's wounds over one by one instead of as a whole. "Oh my god! Dad, what happened!?" Trunks nearly shouted, his voice thick with worry as he ran up to him and examined him closer. Vegeta took a couple breaths, trying to come up with a reasonable lie to feed his son, but nothing would come. "Dad, you're bleeding!" the young purple-haired man proclaimed, running out of the room only to return a moment later with a first aid kit, a hand full of towels and a bowl of water.  
  
"Dad, come here...?" Trunks requested, hoping his father would listen to him. He was about to say please when Vegeta gave in, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Oh, how good it felt to sit down....The prince's eyes blinked slowly, tiredly, and he gave a silent yawn, somehow restraining the pain it caused. The first thing Trunks did was remove Vegeta's clothing so that he'd have better access to the wounds. Vegeta hissed out in protest on more than one occasion but Trunks knew he had to take care of the injuries. Interesting enough he found something else because of this. "Father! Since when have you had a tail!?" Trunks questioned, staring at the appendage in awe as it twitched every so often. Vegeta made a low sound in his throat, a threat almost in a way, but a threat he wouldn't be able to back up. Even still, Trunks decided not to push further on the subject. He dipped a towel into the bowl of water he had gotten, steam rising from the clear liquid. "Can you tell me what happened?" Trunks quietly asked as he began to run the fabric over Vegeta to clean him of blood and dirt. He watched his father's muscles tense under the touch, and even though it was gentle, the contact caused his skin to sting. "I..I..." Vegeta stumbled and then hesitated, "..I'd rather not." Trunks continued his washing, his eyebrows knit together in worry, "Well....okay." He didn't want to give in but he knew how stubborn his father was and pushing him would only make it worse. When he moved to clean Vegeta's chest he could only gape again. The damage was astounding, but what seemed even more miraculous was the fact that Vegeta was able to move around with it. "Dad, this wound is really bad..." Trunks looked up into Vegeta's face, biting his lip nervously, "I think we better take you to a hospital." Vegeta took a couple breaths before replying, "No..." Trunks seemed shocked that Vegeta would refuse, especially in his condition, "But dad-" The Prince of Saijins suddenly yelled out, "I SAID _NO_ TRUNKS!"  
  
The young man nearly fell backward and he shakily gave a nod, "Al..Alright...at least let me wrap it." Vegeta paused for a minute as if regaining the breath he had lost from the outburst, "Whatever." Trunks grabbed the firstaid kit, opened a small plasic bag from the white box and extracted the contents. "Hold this?" Trunks asked, extending the end of the ravel to Vegeta, and with a low grunt, the Saijin took it and held it to the spot indicated by Trunks as where he wanted the starting point to be. It took a few minutes but Trunks was able to thoroughly cover the chest wound with a roll of guaze. "I told Bra," Trunks informed lowly as he removed some bandages from the kit and began to cover some various cuts on his father's body. Vegeta paused before replying, "She wasn't at the funeral?" Trunks nodded slightly, "She was out of town on vacation..I don't know, I just thought it'd be better to tell her after she got back, I just..." Trunks sighed to gather his thoughts, "She's really upset but other than..that...she's been doing okay." Vegeta looked down giving off a small noise of understanding. "Dad, you're going to be okay, right?" Trunks asked innocently, "I know...I know this is hard. I miss mom too. I know...a lot of changes are going to happen but it'll be alright, okay? Just don't worry." Vegeta said nothing; he only stared into space. Trunks sighed, finishing his duties, and decided it was time to begin cleaning up, "Get some rest, dad." Vegeta managed to pull himself to his feet and walk to his room, even though it took a considerable amount longer than usual.  
  
'Damnit. Why couldn't have Kakkarot just killed me? Damn him...' the Saijin thought, cursing Goku's ways again as he dragged himself over to his bed. He left out a deep sigh and fell onto his bed, moaning into the mattress as his wounds experienced movement and pressure. He breathed for a few minutes with his cheek pressed against the pillow, just waiting for the flare of his injuries to die down. But then with the submission of the physical pain, he was forced to focus on the other..things..that were bothering him. Everything came at him inside of his head at once and he felt as though he was spinning into an endless abyss. He closed his eyes as his body lurched, the taste of stomach acid lingering in the back of his throat as he was barely able to resist the urge to vomit. So disgusting. Everyone and everything. Even himself. Disgusting. Revolting. Undeserving.  
  
He released a bitter sigh, glaring at the barren wall next to his bed. "Fuck," he whispered for no reason at all, glaring harder. A vision of Goku laced Vegeta's mind, annoying him that he could not remove it. It was as if the man had imbedded his image into him..a thorn in his mind. He attempted to growl in his throat, more annoyed with himself than with the other Saijin. Yes..what was this? This feeling he felt toward Goku..?  
  
Ah yes, he remembered. Quickly he spun himself over so he gazed at the ceiling. Pity. When was the last time he pitied someone other than himself? Shit..what did it matter? He pitied him and that's all that mattered. Wait, why did he pity him again? Oh, that's right, he decided to let him live so he could bother him later. That among other things. He sighed again.  
  
What a fucked up life.  
  
Humans had no idea how lucky they were to live out normal lives. Normal lives where they had to worry about what to buy at the store, or what type of job to get, or making sure the trash was taken out on the proper day, or mowing the lawn. Normal life..Bulma had attempted to have one. But he would always train and push her away. And now she was gone. He closed his eyes. What a goddamned awful night. He choked on some air, a heat stinging his eyes. No. Fuck that. There was no more of that. No more pity for himself. He was disgusting. He was revolting. Just like everyone and everything around him. This entire existance was so utterly warped he wondered if the gods themselves where truly such holy, divine creatures. The gods. They disgusted him too. Kakkarot...  
  
Kakkarot...  
  
Confusion overwhelmed Vegeta and he felt dizziness flood him again and he brought his hands to his head in an attempt to feel better. Kakkarot did not disgust him...? Why, out of the blue, did he not feel the hatred that had plagued him for years? Why did he not want to sneer at the mere mention of the man? Why did he not want to turn his head and look the other way? He lightly rubbed his temples as he felt a headache coming on. After a few minutes he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. He didn't want to turn his head and look the other way because that was not what Kakkarot did. He did not want to sneer at the mere mention of the man because he found nothing to sneer at. He did not hate Kakkarot because his hatred was now redirected, and in his opinion, it was now focusing on the correct target which also happened to be the source: himself. His head began to pound in synch with his heart beat. Thump, thump, thump...it felt as if blood pounded in his ears....thump, thump, thump... He closed his eyes as dizziness came over him once more; his hand rested on his chest and he noted that his skin made contact with some moist cloth.  
  
Wow, he'd really blown it, hadn't he? He had a chance for a perfect life but he just chewwed up the idea and spit it back out at anyone or anything that dared to suggest it. Now that there was no way to ever reverse it, of course, he regretted it. Moron. 'Have you really always been this stupid?' he asked himself, his eyebrows knitting to form a glare intended for himself, 'How the hell did Kakkarot deal with you?' He attempted to think of a reaon why the other Saijin would of let him live but all he could find were reasons why he shouldn't have. He came to Earth to destroy it: Kakkarot let him live. He went to Namek to wish for immortality: he was killed by Freiza. Okay, so he had done _some_ good there by buying enough time for Kakkarot to heal and looking out for his son and friends. But his intentions were selfish nonetheless, and so, it really shouldn't count for anything. When the Andriods arrived: he let Dr. Gero get away. When Trunks tried to warn him: he merely punched the boy. At the lab he demanded entrance: he blasted down the door. He let Cell absorb Andoid 18 and become complete: it was almost the end of them all, but Kakkarot still forgave him. Kakkarot gave his life in that battle because of him, because he was so determined to feed his ego he didn't care about anyone else. When had he _ever_ made a positive contribution to a fight..or anything for that matter?  
  
His mind came up blank, unable to think of anything.  
  
There had to be something! There had to be _some_ reason as to why Goku didn't kill him. Was it possible that it was just the younger Saijin's ways? Or did Goku see something about him that he himself did not see? Or did he silently enjoy watching him struggle and suffer? For some reason he could not imagine Goku laughing at someone else's misfortune, even on a mental level where no one could hear him. He sighed, perplexed, 'Maybe...maybe I can just take a peek without him noticing..' Vegeta closed his eyes and concentrated, searching for Goku, but not on the physical plane, but rather, a mental one. Carefully he eavesdropped over the Saijin's current thoughts, but all he could make out before Goku began to notice him was, 'Vegeta...'  
  
'He's thinking about me?' the prince thought, confused for a moment, 'Hn. And why not? I just tried to kill him, I suppose if I was in his position I'd have nothing else better to do.' He glanced at the digital clock that was on top of the nightstand next to the bed. The glowing red letters indicated that it was around two in the morning. He looked back up at the ceiling and began to review everything that he could remember in his life. From his earliest childhood memories to what had occured hours before. He noticed that the more he thought about it, the less he..felt..toward himself and his life. He swallowed and licked his lips, taking slow, even breaths.  
  
Goodbye pride. Goodbye honor.  
  
He wondered how life would have been if he had been able to get his hands on the Namekian dragonballs and he had been able to wish for immortality. He'd probably be no better than that of Freiza, a psychotic tyrant who found no true pleasure in life. He probably would have killed Bulma without a second thought, and the whole Earth for that matter. Not to mention Kakkarot, he probably would have gone after him first. At least Freiza had never gotten his hands on the dragonballs, but, Freiza _had_ destroyed him completely. After Freiza's beam had shot him, after he knew there was nothing left, that he wasn't going to make it, he just stopped caring. He let himself cry, and so what? So Kakkarot saw him cry, it wasn't like he was going to see him again... How wrong he was. They wished him back with the dragonballs. No. No, they would never individually wish him back, they knew better than to do something as stupid as that. But they did wish for everyone killed by Freiza back to life. Yes, he just so happened to be killed by Freiza that he too was allowed back onto the mortal plane of existance, it wasn't like anyone would have went out of their way to ensure he solely came back. It was luck. And since that day he wasn't able to surpass Goku's skills and only on occasion had he been able to match them. But it was for only brief times, and they never had been allowed to fight, to test to see who was better. Not like it was necessary because it was impossible to beat the other Saijin. The man had enough power, skill, and speed that if the entire Saijin race still existed everyone would tremble at his mere presence. A third class warrior was stronger than the prince.  
  
Goodbye fighting. Goodbye status.  
  
If Vegeta-sai still existed and everyone learned of Kakkarot and his power, they would probably honor him for all eternity, and Vegeta would just do what he always did: live in his shadow. Always striving to be better than the black-haired Saijin...what would he do when he finally was stronger? Kill him, and then what? Rule the universe? Even if he did get the power he certainly didn't have the..heart..to do such a thing now, no matter how tempting. No, some things were just impossible. Some things were best to give up upon. Some things were not worth their time. What was he to do with his life now? He'd always known pride, honor, fighting, status...without them, now what? Now what... The bitter sweet smile returned. His tail twitched, curling up on the bed beside his body. His breathing seemed to steady, his eyes staring at ceiling above him, his hand on his chest feeling the rise and fall of each inhale and exhale of air. He couldn't recall when he had last felt so relaxed in such a horrible state of being. His smile widened slightly and he closed his eyes.  
  
Goodbye strength. Goodbye will. Goodbye ambition. Goodbye, Vegeta.  
  
He suddenly wasn't afraid of losing anything. 


	7. 6: Oblivion

A/N: Skip said there will be lots of sex in this later. Just thought you'd like to know. By the way, Chib Chib..haha! >D  
  
**Chapter 6: Oblivion**  
  
"Father?" Trunks called through the door after knocking twice, "Father...?" Hesitantly he opened the door and took a peek inside. There on the bed was the Saijin prince, silently resting. Trunks watched him for a moment before turning to leave, and then, he felt the oddest sensation lingering in the back of his mind. His instincts were screaming at him, telling him there was _something_ off about the situation. The demi-Saijin looked back at his father and noticed something he had not seen the first time - the fact that his skin was pale, especially for Vegeta. "Father?" Trunks asked in a louder voice, stepping toward the prince. He tried to push the worry that invaded him away because he truly didn't have a reason to worry - as of yet. Trunks reached out to nudge his father and wake him but when he made contact with the other man's skin he could only gasp, 'So cold!'  
  
Fear began to seep into his entire being and he shaked Vegeta roughly, shouting, "Father! Wake up!" Tears began to gather in his eyes instantly..he had just lost Bulma! He was not going to lose Vegeta as well! "Father!" Trunks frustratingly called out, panic threatening to overcome him. 'No! I must not panic! I must not...uh..uh...shit! Think Trunks! Damn you, think you idiot!' the purple-haired Saijin tried to calm himself, 'Okay, okay...heartbeat! Yes!' Frantically Trunks felt around Vegeta's neck, searching for a specific spot where he'd be able to feel a heartbeat - if there was one. He couldn't seem to find it or..or there was nothing to find in the first place. Trunks shivered at the thought and nearly cried in relief as he felt a slight thump-thump against his fingertips. 'Thank you god! Thank you!!' Trunks silently screamed before rushing to gather Vegeta in his arms, wrapping a blanket around his form in an attempt to warm him. He raced downstairs and out the door, blasting off to the nearest hospital. He knew Vegeta should have gone to the hosptial last night, he just _knew_ it.  
  
The morning sun blinded him so he adverted his gaze downwards so he was looking at his father. His expression was definitely not of the norm - it looked as if he was completely and utterly relaxed, and he had known for his father to sleep with his scowl still on. 'Oh god...father, why!?' Trunks found himself pondering as they were nearly there, 'Please, just hold on!' He landed carefully in front of the hospital, earning quite a few gasps and doubletakes from the morning crowd. Ignoring them he ran through the front doors and starting yelling, "I HAVE AN EMERGENCY!" This caught the attention of quite a few people. "SOMEONE GET ME A DOCTOR!" Trunks screamed at the top of his lungs. He was _NOT_ going to lose his father, not _NOW_. 'Father, please, hang on!' the demi-Saijin thought, his hold tensing a bit. A doctor, followed by some nurses and a stretcher, came running down the hallway towards him. "What is it?" the doctor called out as they approched. "I...I..." Trunks stuttered, not sure _exactly_ what the problem was..Vegeta had refused to tell him last night. He rushed towards them and set his father down on the stretcher, removing the blanket for them all the while.  
  
The doctor paused for only a second as he examined Vegeta before turning and asking Trunks, "What _happened_?" The young man rubbed the back of his neck, answering honestly, "I don't know." The doctor moved and began to push the stretcher towards, most likely, the E.R., "Boy, I'm serious, I need to know what happened.." Trunks nearly shouted at the guy, "I told you! I don't know...last night he came home and when I asked him he wouldn't tell me, but that's my dad for you...damnit! Always so damn stubborn, it always almost got him killed!" They entered a room and the doctor starting cleaning himself up, "Yeah, well, we'll take a look." Trunks paced worridly, trying to restrain his tears, 'Father...why?' The doctor began by cutting up the guaze Trunks wrapped around Vegeta last night, and when he pulled it back he could only gape. His first thought was, 'Why isn't this man dead!?' Upon further examination of the Saijin's body however, he noticed that though the wound _was_ extremely fatal in apperence, the fact that astounded him was that it was healing quite well. As he was continuing his diagnosis, he abruptly gave a startled cry, causing Trunks to turn his attention. "What is it!?" the young man asked while he raced over to the doctor. "He..he..." the man was almost too startled to speak, "He has a tail!" Trunks gave a relieved sigh, 'That's all...?'  
  
"Yes, well, you see..my father is a Saijin," Trunks explained in a hushed tone, "And Saijin's have tails." The doctor gave a quick nod, finishing his examination before answering some of Trunks' silent questions, "His heart beat is steady, though it isn't as it should be. He's lost a lot of blood, and that wound...I'd like for you to find out all you can about how he got it. I'm glad you brought him in, his condition could have worsened if you didn't..you see, he's in a coma." Trunks' heart sank and he swallowed slowly, his throat becoming dry, "A coma?" The doctor nodded before turning and giving instructions to the nurses. After Vegeta was cleaned up and cleared out of the room the doctor turned his attention back to Trunks, "You look familiar, what's your name?" Trunks cleared his throat before answering, "Trunks, Trunks Briefs." The doctor's face fell instantly, "Oh my...you're the son of Bulma Briefs, aren't you?" He nodded. The doctor sucked in a breath, "And she just passed away a few days ago, didn't she?" He nodded again. The doctor suddenly realized the amount of stress the entire situation must be having upon a young man of his age, "I'm so sorry, Trunks. Look, my name is Dr. Patel, if you need anything you only need to call. I'll make sure you'll be able to see your father whenever you like, you just get that info about his chest injury, alright?" He nodded once again. "Alright, I've got to go..got things to do, you know, doctor stuff. Look, I'm really sorry, just hang in there!" Dr. Patel tried to cheer him up before jogging off to another part of the hospital, leaving Trunks by himself.  
  
After finding where exactly they had placed Vegeta, Trunks raced up to his room immediately. Stable...thank god...at _least_ he was stable. The young man took a seat next to the bed, whispering, "Father please, I cannot bear to lose you now..." The pale form made no indication of movement other than the extremely slow rise and fall of each passing breath. "Father..." Trunks choked out as tears welled in his sky blue eyes. He bit his lip for a moment before sighing, "I uh...I'm going to run home real quick and get some things. I'll be back soon, dad, just hang on." Trunks turned for the door and he looked back at the full-blooded Saijin for a moment, "Feel free to wake up at any time, even while I'm out." After a moment of staring he closed the door shut and headed down the hallway. After leaving the building he flew off in an instant, intending to return as soon as possible. Without the sun in his eyes he was able to keep a better handle on his flying and within a few moments Capsule Corp came into view.  
  
He sighed as his feet touched the cement of his doorstep and as he turned to open the door when he suddenly felt ki behind him. Trunks, rather jittery, jumped at the sudden detection and he turned to see who it was. "Hey Trunks," Goku said in a rather soft voice, his eyes having circles under them as if he hadn't had much sleep. "Oh..hey Goku," Trunks replied in a flat tone, a little curious as to why the older man was dropping by. Trunks looked at the door and took a breath to ask Goku if he'd like to come inside, but the Saijin was quick and he asked his question first. "How's Vegeta doing?" Goku asked, sucking in his breath and clenching his muscles. Trunks sighed, bit his tongue, and looked at the ground, feeling tears come to his eyes, "Oh, Goku..." The full-blooded Saijin felt his blood run cold, and a feeling of quivering nervousness pitting in his stomach. Trunks took a moment before he looked back up at Goku, "He's in the hospital. In a coma." There was a moment when nothing was said, and nothing moved. And then Goku suddenly shouted out, "Shit! Oh, _shit!_ This is all my fault! _SHIT!_" His hands fisted in his hair and he pulled until the strands threatened to break, and for some reason his eyes felt as if they were burning. Trunks blinked a few times until the initial shock wore off, "Goku! _Goku_! Wait! What!? This is your fault...?? What!?" Goku turned to the purple-haired man, "Damnit! Yes! I...we...last night Vegeta and I had a fight! _Shit!_ I _knew_ something was wrong, _goddamnit_! I knew it! I knew something was wrong!!" Trunks stood mute and unable to move. "Oh god," Goku kicked the ground in frustration, wishing that it was himself that he was kicking, "Oh god! I'm so sorry, Trunks! I'm so sorry!"  
  
Trunks collapsed to the ground, staring off into space. Goku knelt down next to him and grabbed his shoulders, "Trunks, you've got to listen to me! I'm sorry! It was a mistake! Last night was...insane! Vegeta, he..attacked me for no reason! Went ballistic; out of control! I tried to stop him, Trunks, but he just...just wouldn't; and he kept pushing all the right buttons and, and..and I just..." Trunks snapped out of his daze to glare at the black-haired Saijin, "You nearly _killed_ him!" Goku opened his mouth to reply but the youth pushed him away, "My mother's dead and you don't have enough self control to stop yourself from taking my father from me as well!?" Trunks was beginning to fall into hysterics, "Just leave my family alone!" The demi-Saijin threw open the door which slammed into the wall with damaging force. "Trunks! Listen to me! Please!" Goku shouted, his eyes burning again, "I never wanted this! Never! You _know_ that! You know I'd never want any of this! Trunks..You know I want to help! I'm sorry, I really am!" Trunks spun around, seething, "Well, being sorry doesn't do anything about it!" Goku sighed shakily and gave a bitter nod, "I know." Trunks glared at the older Saijin, and in that instant he looked exactly like his father. Goku's tightly knitted eyebrows began to relax at the sight and he realized just how emotionally exhausted the young man must be, "Trunks. Please, listen to me..I know this will sound crazy but..I will find a way, and I will make it better. I swear to you." The purple-haired man rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Whatever; like promises to me can make a difference to my father." Goku looked down thoughtfully for a moment before he said, "Alright. I swear to Vegeta, to the Saijin race, to his royalty, to his - and my own - ancestors.. that I _will_ make this better, and make it right."  
  
Trunks seemed to review this over for a moment, and then he approached Goku in a few quick strides. Suddenly he grabbed Goku by the collar and pulled them face to face. Trunks hissed venemously, "If you so dare to break this promise...so help me Goku, I may be weaker than you, but I will make you regret your words. Never dare to swear by those things unless you truly mean it. I know my father would kill you if you so dared to break a promise sworn by those things." The taller Saijin was surprised by Trunks' behavior so he was only able to give a small nod in response. Trunks released him with a sigh, his expression turning to sadness once more, "Good....well..I'm going to get some things. I'll be back in a moment if you wish to wait for me, I'm going to go back to the hospital to watch over father." Goku gave another nod and watched the young man take off towards his room. Being left alone, Goku searched for a place to sit while he waited, and he finally took a seat at the table in the kitchen. He hunched over, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. He sat with a lingering sensation that he was going to vomit due to his trembling stomach, but he concentrated on breathing to avoid it. With each unsteady inhale and exhale he became more and more aware of a scent that was around him. It was definatly masculine, an older smell in some sort of way, but very pleasing nonetheless. He felt himself grow calmer the more he focused on it, and he realized that it was familiar. Familiar...and...calm....  
  
'_...I hate you, Kakkarot._'  
  
Goku's eyes snapped open as he suddenly knew that this was Vegeta's scent that was giving him a sense of peace. After a few moments of contemplation he then decided he would have to see Vegeta _immediately_ and uphold his promise. The sound of approaching footsteps made him rise from the chair he was sitting in and Trunks came around the corner with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He nodded to Goku and the full-blooded Saijin nodded back, and then they were on their way. Neither spoke a word on the trip to the hospital but when they landed Trunks spoke softly. "I'm sorry about earlier," he murmured just loud enough for Goku to hear. "Hey," Goku replied, just as soft, "You have been through a lot recently. A lot that you shouldn't have to. It's okay, really, Trunks." The demi-Saijin sighed as he nodded, looking down at the floor as they headed for Vegeta's room. They entered the room which was exactly the way it was when Trunks had left it. The purple-haired young man set his bag down out of the way and took a chair next to the bed. Goku stood next to him, examining the full amount of damage he had done. 'My god..he's so pale,' Goku thought, his stomach clenching to the point where his muscles nearly trembled, 'Oh, Vegeta..I'm so sorry. I should've stopped you, but now I don't know what to do.' The urge to vomit started crawling up his throat and Goku quickly spun away. "I think I need a glass of water," he choked out before racing out the door, leaving Trunks alone and a bit confused.  
  
The black-haired man quickly took a few gulps of water from the water fountain, trying to catch his breath which had mysteriously left him. He gripped the water fountain on either side as he hunched over, gasping for air. Why did it hurt him so to see Vegeta like this..? Why did he feel so bad...? Forcing his eyes shut, Goku tried to think of a way to follow through with his promise. He sighed, knowing a public hallway was not the best of places to think things over. Sluggishly he walked back to Vegeta's hospital room, hoping he could resist the urge to vomit if it ever arose again. He entered again, offering Trunks a weak smile, which was returned just as weakly. Nearly shaking, Goku walked around to the other side of the bed to stand beside Vegeta. He clenched his teeth as he swallowed, trying to resist the sudden desire to touch the older man. He only wanted to caress his forehead, run his hand through those dark brown strands, to soothe the hurting prince - but he could not. Carefully, Goku took a seat on the bed next to the comatose figure. He stared for quite awhile at Vegeta's face, not blinking, not moving. "I'm going to go..get something to eat," Trunks declared after an indiscernable amount of time; the young man slowly getting up and leaving the room.  
  
Once Trunks was gone Goku released a deep sigh and let his body tremble. "I'm sorry, Vegeta," Goku whispered, letting his hands take the prince's smaller ones. They were cold, icy cold, and stark white to match. The black-haired Saijin felt his chest heave as he rubbed his hands against the other ones, hoping to warm them. Warmth slowly began to spread into the icicles of fingertips, Goku then noticing how defined Vegeta's hands were. For how small he was proportioned, the prince's fingers were rather long, and the skin exceedingly smooth, of course, Goku knew this was because Vegeta always wore gloves. A well of emotion worked it's way up through Goku's body, causing him to shake. His vision blurred as he leaned over, carefully encasing the Saijin prince. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, warm wetness trailing down his cheeks, "I'm so sorry, Vegeta. I...it's just....why do you hate me so? I'm sorry..that I can't be what you want me to be...I'm sorry, Vegeta..." He held onto the smaller hands tighter than before, "I just...I care about you, Vegeta...I wish that you'd see that. I've always wanted us to move on...be friends...at least....I don't understand how I've failed you...is it truly because I'm third-class? Vegeta....I wish....you could see that..I've worked so hard to get where I've got, as have you. Though I think if it comes down to who deserves it, it's you...." Shapes turned into blots of color as more tears escaped. "It's been years.." Goku choked for a moment, trying to resist a sob, "..and you still hated me just as strong, if..if not more..." He blinked, pushing hot tears down his cheeks, "I never understood what you wanted from me! What have I done? What _haven't_ I done? Why do you hate me, Vegeta??"  
  
The sob he had so desperatly tried to restrain tore itself from his throat, "You are my prince, Vegeta! You are the last of my kind, and no one can replace you!" He turned his head sharply and wiped his face against the sleeve of his shirt, his breath shuddering, "You told me once, that you wanted me to feel humiliated, like you have." Goku slowly rested his head on Vegeta's forearm, "If it would please you, my prince, I would gladly take all your humiliations and put them on me. You do not deserve this pain any longer." He sighed softly, closing his eyes, "And I've caused you so much pain. So much pain that you regrew your tail. That is..unforgiveable." Even quieter, almost a whisper, "I..am unforgiveable."  
  
Then he thought again of what he said, '_If it would please you, my prince, I would gladly take all your humiliations and put them on me. You do not deserve this pain any longer._' Yes..he could...! Of course! Vegeta wanted him to feel humiliation, and he wanted himself to feel triumph. The very least Goku could do was give him that. And maybe, with the power of a triumph, it would give Vegeta the strength to wake up, the strength to continue living, if not for himself, than for at least Trunks and Bra's benefit. Goku took a deep breath, hoping that he was making the right decision, and that this wouldn't make things worse. But then again, he had a promise to fulfill. One to make things better, not matter what. He promised Trunks he'd find a way, and he had.  
  
With his eyes closed, he plunged himself into Vegeta's psyche without a second thought. The material world dissapated as his mind connected with the prince's. No permission was granted for this act, but with the sole intention to do good, Goku didn't care about the prospect of a bad consequence. The senses became voluntary actions, only to be felt when desired. His body was long gone, and it was only him, and Vegeta. But as he searched for the other man's inner voice, he only found silence. Where he should've been able to envision some fragment of a topic Vegeta would be dreaming about, consciously or not, there was only darkness. Dark and still was the landscape of Vegeta's mind. Deep, endless, but not calm in the slightest. It was the type of enveloping ink that a child experiences when they had just been taught of what the Boogie Man is. And just like that child, Goku wished for a night light. Some shining beacon of hope. But there was none, and when the seconds became minutes, Goku also felt like that child. The longer you stayed in the dark, the more likely it was that this _whatever_ or _whatevers_ were going to get you. He turned, thinking to escape back to the safety of the hospital room to ponder a new strategy, when a memory of Trunks' voice flared up, '_My mother's dead and you don't have enough self control to stop yourself from taking my father from me as well!?_' He stopped his motions, staying within the recesses of Vegeta's subconscious as another reminder came to him, '_If you so dare to break this promise...so help me Goku, I may be weaker than you, but I will make you regret your words._'  
  
Goku turned around again, and with determination, marched further into the darkness. 


	8. 7: Triumph

A/N: Thank you nashi. You are my number one cracker. ^_^  
  
**Chapter 7: Triumph**  
  
The darkness was unlimited, comforting, like an enveloping blanket that keeps you eternally warm. The lack of feeling in all its glory, bestowed upon him the absence of failure, as well as the general lack of pain that accompanied being second best. His physical and mental body were one, each playing on the other's general lack of vitality. And he was alone, so blissfully alone, because now he didn't have to live up to any standards, or have any responsibilities. He was just suspended in an endless abyss of darkness that seemed to sing him lullabies with its silence. It was as if he was in a state of partial awareness, as if he was perpetually half-asleep. He was slowly drifting away, lazily, down the river of Styx.  
  
Then, subtly, a shadow of something moved about, catching his tired eyes. He slowly turned to examine his surroundings, despite the fact he was completely aware of everything. Confirming his results, he returned to his relaxed, emotionless state, when suddenly, there was another small glimmer. Small, almost non-existent, but surely there; he let curiosity arise in him. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't harmful, otherwise he would have detected the threat immediately. Although, if he was attacked at this moment, there would be absolutely no way for him to shield himself, though this realization hadn't occurred to him, since it was too stressful of a notion to process at the moment. Unconsciously, he pushed everything detrimental aside, even if he had to use negative means, such as denial, to do so.  
  
With slight, gentle, force, the glimpse of something else pressed on, becoming larger. There was something being offered somehow, he could feel it in the core of his being. He did the equivalent of sniffing it out, and he found it to be not only benign, but hesitant on its part, as if it wasn't sure that it should be there, as if it wasn't sure what would happen to it because of its location. Like a lost puppy following him home, he drew in this small treasure, as he was sure that this is what it was.  
  
Due to the hospitality, and general lack of foreshadowing, he dared to give it a closer look. He pulled it near to give it his full attention, and full examination. It was something foreign within him, but it wasn't forceful, so he welcomed it. It prodded gingerly, asking for acceptance: he gave in to it willingly. Instantly, a flood of half-written memories came over him, racing through periods of anxiety, ignoring the brief flashes of pain. It discarded the worry, the sadness, the fear - but it offered something that was worth so much more, especially to him.  
  
There were nameless faces, bland figures, but powerful, riveting associations. The odd smell of unacceptableness wafted in and consumed his nose, making it crinkle in disdain. It was a scent of danger, the scent of..._power_. Danger with power. Power that was greater than _his_. He should have felt afraid, he should have been trying to think of ways to save his skin, but instead he could only think of that Earthling saying: "The bigger they are, the harder they fall." He wasn't going to show emotions his enemies could feed off of. He wasn't going to give them reasons to walk all over him. Even if he was to be defeated, he would do it with this head held up high. Unbreakable, unmoving, like a mountain.  
  
The gift persisted, as if nudging him on like there was more to see. He felt confident that he could withstand whatever was being dished out, so he continued on this trek, this exploration. More blank people, and again that smell of unwanted attention. And yet, this time, there was another smell, the certain stench of a cold sweat. A worried sweat - from his enemies no less. It made him feel proud that though the handicap was upon him, he could still cause the mighty to tremble before him. He swelled and beamed inside of himself, but only for a moment, for he wouldn't, and couldn't let such things get to his head, otherwise it would cost him dearly. Fights were executed, arms and legs, fists and feet, flying about, some landing hits, some hitting him. He persisted, never dare considering giving up, never daring to consider abandoning the things he was protecting. And even after all was said and done and fought, he let the others leave the fight with their souls intact with their bodies. This was his honor, this is what truly fed his pride.  
  
There were times now, coming to him, times lacking constant threats, and instead giving relaxation. The feeling of the sun's rays warming his skin. The soft breeze caressing him, running through his hair in gentle waves. The pleasant scent of nature so strong that with your eyes shut you could not tell where earth ended and sky began. The sound of running water murmuring old tales to him, lulling him off to sleep. And then, again, there was a stark exchange. There was activity, but it was welcomed. His muscles stretching, his nerve endings tingling, his heart thumping enthusiastically from the prospect of what he lived for. Fighting. He never turned down a challenge, but he never instigated one either; the reason simply being that he bent to the wishes of the ones he cared about, and he wouldn't endanger himself simply for his own enjoyment.  
  
Then there was a pain. A pain unlike that he had ever felt before. It wasn't physical, but he was well educated in the art of non-bodily injury. It was the pain of silent rejection. A rejection of one's self knowingly. The denial, the disbelief of the proof worked for only so long before he embraced the truth. He embraced it and rose above it. He accepted his status, and then created his own. The pain had transpired into pride.  
  
Then, a great thing coursed through his veins. Something he had achieved, but never fully mastered. There was a power, from him, over people. Others were weak, and he was strong - so very strong. With this, he could do anything, but his will kept him from straying. His ambition sealed his fate. He would not go looking for a fight, but come to meet one if it was advancing upon himself, or his residence. He had everything he wanted, so why was he not out there, living? He never felt more alive then when he was threatened, whether the threat was docile - friendly - or aggressive - hostile - from a disturbed individual to a life-long companion. It was something instinctual, in his nature, unchangeable, unbreakable. He was unbreakable. His body could be beaten, but his mind and soul would forever be untainted. He refused to be broken.  
  
Scars began to heal.  
  
Warmth came next, glorious warmth like that of the sun on a spring day. It was different, however, because it radiated onto every inch, seeped into every pore, soothed every ache imaginable. He felt relaxation, himself drifting. It was splendor, a great gift, one of the greatest he had ever received. Warmth. And with it came another; another feeling so foreign it exalted him momentarily, till it faded and he just felt, wallowing in it. Safety. He felt safe. Not just because he could protect himself, that he could protect others, but because this warm imperfection convinced him, without persuasion and without promise, that he merely was safe. No harm would come to him. Not now, not ever again. At least, for this moment. And this moment was eternity, and it was all that mattered.  
  
Sensation, a notion, an innuendo of a presence. He wasn't alone, he was here with the gift-bearer, he could feel it now. It failed to startle him, failed to cause anxiety, or wonder, or nervousness. He opened up willingly to the intangible unknown, unworryingly. He was safe. The presence came forth, slowly, hesitantly, submissively. No harm would come to him.. A flicker of emotion sent - a relaxed invitation - a hello. Gently a response, an emotion sent back. Curiosity. A reply - assurance. In return, timid - questionative. Confusion was felt by the possibility of multiple meanings. Clarification - quiet, almost small. Misunderstanding. Persistence. Refusal. A plea.  
  
The plea felt awkward, as if out of place. Somehow the plea was a sign. He hadn't expected it in the slightest. He almost felt flattered. Patience. He contemplated slightly before deciding to give in. The question "why?" had to be answered. Words, almost formed, the ideas being bounced back and forth from the outside force. Structure was being built, like a miniature city within the bounds of infinity within himself. The architect unknown. His pulse quickened. The gift-bearer presented more, prodding with a bit more confidence. Something said unspoken, something that triggered an intense avalanche. A rush of deconstruction, making his senses turn hyper-active, swept through him, capturing any and everything non-domestic. He refused.  
  
The scars were still there.  
  
He denied the invader any more dwelling within the inner-most sanctum. Another plea. It was ignored. Repeated again, louder, more anxious. His comfortable solitude was broken, he bitterly realized, and he would not be left alone, not anymore. Rampant, seething, anger began to encompass him as he clasped onto the intruder as in a moment of panic, it, or they, began to flee. He felt a surge of rage from his awareness. The trespasser's presence shrunk pathetically, trying vainly to escape him. He ripped the gifts from their places and discarded them carelessly, assured by his apprehension that they were not all that they appeared to be. Nothing ever was. Partially unwillingly, and partially on purpose, he sent his hostility to the presence he had ensnared. It thrashed in a futile attempt to wrench itself out of his hold.  
  
He was being flooded by emotions, all that had been neatly tucked away and forgotten, that had been replaced with lethargy. The darkness lost its comfort, and had morphed into a type of threat, to not only the visitor, but to the owner. Rationality sunk its shameful teeth into him, jolting him free from his delusional world. Clarity shocked him to the core, realization joining the fray. Almost shyly he relaxed his grip on the presence, venturing a try at communication.  
  
_'..Kakkarot?'_  
  
A soft, near silent reply, _'Yes, Vegeta..?'_  
  
Abruptly, the younger Saijin found his eyes opening to the hospital room, his head resting on Vegeta's shoulder. Trunks was sitting in a chair, staring at them with a look of concentration etched on his face. Goku sat up and was about to speak when Trunks suddenly approached the head of the bed.  
  
"Papa!" he cried out in pure joy. 


	9. 8: Rearrangement

**Chapter 8: Rearrangement**  
  
The Prince of Saijins breathed deeply his dark eyes examining his son with a scrutinizing expression. "How are you feeling?" the half-breed questioned lowly, keeping his voice in check as he smiled reassuring. The brunette said nothing, instead his gaze slowly shifted to the other person in the room, his eyebrows knitting together, the black orbs burning with emotion. Shaking for an indistinguishable reason, Vegeta raised his hand and pointed to the door. In a strong, unfaltering, voice he growled, "Get out."  
  
Goku could practically feel the color drain from his face. He understood now that he'd only partly succeeded in his mission. He kept his promise, however, and despite his wishes to explain himself, to help the elder understand his actions, he obeyed the command. He bowed his head, slowly composing himself and rose from his seat. "I'm sorry," Goku whispered, turning his gaze from the royalty to slip out of the room silently.  
  
Only when the door clicked shut did Vegeta turn his attention back to his son. "Trunks," he said his name simply, not giving a hint at all to what his feelings might've been at the moment. "Father, I'll go get the doctors," the young man offered, beginning to stand when Vegeta grasped his wrist in a surprisingly tight hold. "No," the elder instructed, his face sickly, but stern, "I wish to speak with you." Following Vegeta's wishes, Trunks reclaimed his seat, his curiosity as well as other various emotions sparked. For long moments they did not speak, but merely looked at each other thoughtfully, as if analyzing. Finally, the prince moved, his hand raising higher till he halted its progress. Extending his fingers, he lightly traced the hybrid's brow, drawing down to caress the cheek presented. Then pulling back, it rose again to rest on Trunks's head, softly feeling the lavender tresses.  
  
"I know you do not understand me, Trunks," Vegeta drew his hand back and pressed his index finger against the teen's lips when he attempted to speak. Once he was certain the boy wouldn't interrupt, he replaced his hand up top his head, "The only thing certain to you is the predictability of my actions. I train, I eat, I sleep. You know nothing of me, but this is not your fault." Vegeta sighed at the sadness and regret the crystal blue eyes radiated, then insisted, "Do not feel guilty for my mistakes, Trunks. I wish to tell you why I was not at your mother's funeral." Trunks became solemn again, listening intently to his father as he spoke.  
  
"I was out being an idiot. I destroyed some landscape out in the middle of nowhere. After I felt like I'd done enough damage, I went to visit her. I fought Kakkarot. I instigated the fight. I made him hurt me like this, Trunks, it's not his fault." He raised his other hand, gesturing for Trunks to stay quiet, who achingly did so. "I realized something last night, Trunks. Something that you won't agree with, but it's essentially true. I am worthless, Trunks. I could have contributed so much more, I could have made Bulma.." He choked for a moment, wincing slightly, "I could have made your mother very happy, but I didn't. I failed again, Trunks. What's pride when you can't even make yourself happy? Or the people you feel for about happy? I've done everything wrong and I can't go back and fix it. Damn it all... Damn it all, Trunks! It's not fair!"  
  
In a swift motion, he tossed the sheet back, swishing his legs over the side of the bed and getting up, staggering slightly. "Father!" Trunks yelled out, concerned. With a growl, Vegeta tore the tubes from his body, ignoring any damage it inflicted, "Trunks, I am not weak! I _am not_ weak! I do not need help!" The demi-Saijin approached his father with his arms extended, "I know, father! I know! I just care about you!" Vegeta pivoted around to face his son, giving him an offended glare, "You let Kakkarot get close to me! Trunks, do you have any idea what he was doing!? Running around in my head, fucking with my emotions, my memories, and without permission!!"  
  
"Dad.." Trunks tried feebly, letting his arms fall to his sides, "..he was just trying to help. I..made him promise to help."  
  
"I can't stop being who I am," Vegeta said flatly, his gaze directed at the cold floor beneath his feet. At the pause, Trunks took the opportunity to unplug the heart monitor. Neither spoke, only a soft dripping sound disrupted the awkward peace of the room. "I have been this way for so long, I cannot change now. I will always be Vegeta, the Prince of Saijins," he watched the small pool of red slowly expand below him.  
  
Finally, with a sigh, he sat down on the edge of the bed, Trunks merely watching him. "I have been a poor father," Vegeta admitted bitterly, his eyes narrowing into two obsidian slits, "But I thought that if I ignored you, then maybe I wouldn't hurt you as much." Trunks sat beside his father, lightly leaning against him. "I know, papa," Trunks murmured, closing his eyes, "I know you're never good at expressing your emotions. It's ok. I love you too." Vegeta sighed silently, deeply, and let his cheek rest against the mop of wispy purple.  
  
"I've dishonored you, as well," Vegeta replied, his voice a whisper, "Choosing favorites with my children." He closed his eyes in shame, trying to drown out Trunks' reassuring words. He didn't deserve such treatment, not for all that he'd done. Trunks had so much of his mother in him, in that sense.  
  
He thought, though, that maybe, just maybe, now that he'd exposed all this, and got it off his chest, it might move towards resolution. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he could fix some of the mistakes that he had made.  
  
***  
  
Once the door closed completely, Goku looked down the empty hospital hallway, staring into space. He closed his eyes, feeling a hint of disdain aimed towards himself for his stupidity. How could Vegeta ever accept him? It seemed that his plan had been working, until...  
  
The black-haired man headed towards the elevator numbly as he was wrapped up in mixed shock and disappointment. He had pushed the limits, and caused all his work to crumble into nothing. He shouldn't have tried to make Vegeta aware of his attempts consciously. He should've waited and explained the situation to the prince at a later date when he would've been able to digest it properly. Now he'd probably done more harm than good, and it was uncertain exactly what level of contempt Vegeta held for him _now_. He fell to his knees and leaned into the corner of the elevator, once inside. 'I was stupid!' he thought, knocking his fist against the side, not only denting the metal, but lightly shaking the entire device. The other passengers looked at him in a mixture of pity and confusion.  
  
And then, suddenly, everything became so clear. Like an overcast sky blown over, he inhaled, feeling refreshed. He couldn't help Vegeta, in fact, he did all that he could. He could not force the prince to comprehend his ideals and reasoning, that was up to the brunette to do. He did his part, and if Vegeta failed on his, then it wasn't that bad of a humiliation then, was it? Was he supposed to pine over Vegeta? What sense did that make? The elevator dinged as it opened, and he shoved past the people as he abruptly burst into a run. He felt so trapped, like he was suffocating in this place. He never liked hospitals. Hospitals had needles. Hospitals indicated pain. He didn't want this pain, so he fled its grasp before it consumed him, crushed him. The automatic doors up front parted for him, and he leapt into the air, taking to the sky, ignoring all bystanders.  
  
Vegeta hated him. He had denied the prince everything, even escape from his life. Was it his right to judge and take other people's lives into his hands? He'd done it so many times, but not quite like this. The prince was suicidal, if not sado-masochistic, Goku could see that now. Now that he thought about it, he was almost entirely positive that proud man was mentally disturbed beyond repair. If the brunette could not, and would not, consciously face reality, there was nothing more Goku could do for him. The elder was doomed, and quite possibly, could have been doomed for a long time. Fate. Such a funny thing. Piccolo had spoken about it, but did he believe in it himself? No. Fate was simply a scapegoat, something to blame in a depression. Or a weapon of insult if something should go well.  
  
He shook his head, the sensation of his thoughts muddling up frustrating him. And as easily as it had come earlier, he felt a new sense of recognition. He had no family, no friends, no one relying on him any longer. He was alone, and he could do anything he wanted, but he lacked direction. It didn't matter what happened to him now. He was wayward, with no purpose. He felt his ki flaring, his head spinning. He felt nauseous, his body trembling, acid lingering in the back of his throat. He was a golden inferno, a humanoid phoenix with accomplishment after accomplishment piled onto his reputation. His name was so clean, so unblemished, so perfect. He was an anomaly; he was unnatural, a fluke. And if he hadn't been born? Earth would be long gone, the universe thrown into the clutches of Majin Buu, perhaps? Mirai Trunks' future would have never come to be. This would never have come to be. Fate?  
  
"No," he choked out, denying it as his eyes went sightless. He heaved, he screamed, he struggled, he gasped. What was he fighting? Himself? He refused destiny, denied the inability to make choices, forced away the thoughts. His mind felt like it was swirling in a mass of liquid spikes, black spots dotting his vision. Flashes from unseen lights blinded him, stealing vision for moments, giving him only fragments. Fragments of blood and bitter tears. Fragments of broken bones and shattered pride. Bits and pieces of humiliation, degradation, pain, and failure. He felt wind curving around his body. He was falling again. Then all was silent. 


End file.
